Division Falling
by cslev
Summary: A Birkhoff & Alex drama/romance/adventure. I make no claims to own the Nikita series or story, either old or new versions.
1. Ch 1 Assignments

_**Division Falling **_

_**Chapter 1 Assignments**_

Birkhoff tore his gaze from the computer screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Glancing down the length of her figure, he shot her a knowing look. "Please," he stated with his usual sarcasm.

Looking past the reflective glare of his glasses, she thought she saw a world of hidden clues in his eyes, just beyond reach. Processing his one word dismissal of her question as to whether the guy on his screen would find her attractive, she basked in the warm glow of Birkhoff's apparent approval. Shifting her attention up and over the thick hair he wore shoved back off his forehead, she studied his high cheekbones and dropped her gaze to his lips. Parted slightly to reveal very white, even teeth, she realized how well sculpted they were. His gaze faltered a bit, telling her that he'd ventured too far out onto the shaky limb of flirtation, but she liked the fact that he'd made the effort. Holding his attention, she wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him, if he ever bothered to do such a thing.

_No, that's forbidden _she remembered, flushing at the direction of her thoughts.

"Having second thoughts?" he asked softly, one corner of his mouth lifting toward a smile. "You know, I'll be watching everything…no need to fear."

She nodded as he resumed his typing. _He has nice hands,_ she decided, _strong and capable…_

"What you need to do is play it cool," he said as if by rote. "Don't be obvious when you approach him—nerds think that when a hot girl likes them, there's something wrong with _her_."

"Is that so?" she challenged when he glanced up as if to gauge her reaction. She offered him a tiny smile. _Then I guess I can't be too obvious with you_…

"Definitely," he sighed forcefully, inputting stats on the video cameras surrounding the nightclub. "I do know what I'm talking about."

"I'm sure you do," she smiled, leaning closer to his shoulder, which seemed to make him nervous.

"Almost done," he shot back, as if taking a few seconds for personal interaction was a violation of Division's code. "There—you can go see Amanda now..."

"Thanks," she said unenthusiastically, the prospect of dealing with Division's evil shrink a bit daunting. Now he was scrolling furiously through several split screens of data all at once. "So I guess I'll 'see' you later?"

He pursed his lips and closed two of the screens, leaning closer to the monitor. "I will see _you_," he corrected, pausing to reach for his ever present can of Red Bull. Tilting his head back, he drained the contents and glanced up at her. "Hang in there—it's gonna be a loooong night."

She pulled her gaze from the muscular column of his throat, still seeing his Adam's apple moving as he drank. Reaching up, she rested her hand on his shoulder despite his flinch of surprise. He glanced down at her hand and shot her a warning look. Instead of apologizing she smiled, gently squeezing the thick muscle she could feel beneath the fabric of his black zippered sweatshirt. Then she turned and walked away, almost sure that his eyes followed her movements. Suddenly the keys resumed their frantic clicking as he quickly got back to work.

"Don't forget to check in with me later," he called after her.

Stopping at the door, she turned to see that his eyes were definitely on his monitor. "Aye aye, Sir," she teased, saluting despite his attention being elsewhere. Stepping out into the hall she headed toward Amanda's office with a smile on her face, feeling as energized as if she'd shared the Red Bull with him. Quickening her pace, she welcomed tonight's assignment now that she knew she'd be working under his command instead of Michael's. This was indeed a first.

Controlling her stride despite the stiletto heels she wore, she continued down the corridor. Thinking back to her arrival just two months ago, she clearly remembered the first time she'd met Birkhoff. It was the first day of computer class for all the new recruits, and they'd been assembled for over five minutes waiting for the instructor to show. With everyone gossiping under their breath she kept to herself, well aware of the clicks that had already formed before she'd been brought here. Then suddenly he'd burst into the room, looking like he'd just jumped out of bed, his dark blonde hair mussed and carrying papers clutched to his chest. In his free hand was a huge mug of coffee, which he sipped before beginning to shout orders at them in a voice that surprised them all—definitely not nerdy, but deep pitched and powerful enough to command their undivided attention. He wore dark navy jeans and black Keds to match his black skater sweatshirt, a white screened tee beneath a gray and black flannel shirt and a few days' scruffy beard. And she'd been mesmerized by him from that moment on.

She couldn't quite decide what fascinated her about him, though it might be due to some combination of his obsession with data, his no nonsense manner and his brilliant impatience. He'd kept her after class until she passed his first test, exhibiting another side of his personality that she suspected he hid too well. For he'd been patient with her, soft-spoken and even compassionate, eyeing her with the gentle warning that new recruits who didn't keep up wouldn't last long here. He'd gotten so close to her that she wondered if they were being watched, necessitating his quiet manner. But in that closeness she'd been stirred both by the look in his eyes as well as some subtle scent that must be his shampoo. And there was something about his hair that just made her want to comb her fingers into.

"Birkhoff brief you already?" Amanda's voice startled her. Stopping abruptly, she turned and sobered her expression as the resident shrink came to her side, her hands clutched at her waist. She nodded, wondering how she could have missed the clicking of her five inch heels on the tiles.

_Was I that intensely focused on Birkhoff? _she worried, hoping she wouldn't suspect their little tete-a-tete back in Operations. She didn't want to get him in trouble.

"He's putting the final touches on the monitoring protocol for the club," she said in a business-like tone.

"Good," she nodded, tilting her head to one side suddenly. "Anything you want to go over with me?"

"No—I was a little concerned about how to make the initial contact," she stated, "but he gave me some advice that should help."

"Yes, he would," she sighed, glancing back in the direction of Operations. "_My_ advice would be to be yourself, and most of all exude that cool confidence you manage so well. But you look lovely so go get our multi-millionaire geek—Michael's waiting for you at the carport."

"Alright," she nodded as Amanda stalked off toward Percy's wing. Glancing up at the video camera, she smiled and waved, just in case he was watching. Then she headed toward the carport, prepared to get the show underway.

_**He stared at the surveillance monitor wondering if he'd really seen what he thought he'd seen. **_After a moment's hesitation he decided that he had, smiling as he resumed programming the ops for tonight. She'd actually _waved _to him, which did wonders for his mood if he was forced to admit it. She for one didn't treat him like a machine, which was partly the reason that whenever she was around he felt his dark moods lift. It wasn't just her fresh young face and gorgeous blue eyes, though that certainly helped. But there was something about her that drew him like a moth to the flame. He'd been seriously burnt before, but by now he didn't even care.

"Hell, you're not getting any younger_," _he muttered, his voice echoing loud in the empty room. With a cynical smile he wrapped the program and hit the function keys, finally lifting his arms behind his head and stretching his shoulders back. He watched as the cameras swept the area of the carpool. When she strode into view he lowered his arms and sat forward, staring at the slightly blurred images as she moved. Sliding into the car before Michael shut the door and climbed into the front, she was silently transported away.

"God speed," he sighed, watching that screen until the garage door closed behind them. Then he looked over at the access road and followed their course, reaching blindly for his drink. Then he remembered he'd finished it already and decided he needed a water bottle instead. All those electrolytes, sugar and caffeine were making him jittery, added to his chronic lack of sleep. Percy had worked him mercilessly these last two days, and he desperately needed a break. Now he was hallucinating, he decided, shaking his head at the thought of Alexandra being interested in him.

_Wake up, Birkhoff—you're imagining things you shouldn't, _he lectured himself as he got up and headed out into the hall once his monitor alarm was set. The water bottle machine was only a few yards past the restrooms, so he decided to make a quick stop there before they reached the nightclub. The drive was about 25 minutes long so he took his time. Pulling his glasses off to clean them, he gazed into the mirror, studying the lines of strain around his eyes as he prayed for a chance to get some rest once this assignment was over. As far as the last time he'd had more than two days off in a row, he couldn't even remember.

Lifting his arms, he hand-combed his hair back off his forehead, realizing he needed a trim when he saw that it was well below his collar line. Then he thought of Alex's long dark hair, its shiny luster and wavy softness tempting him. As did her subtle fragrance when she'd stood at his side dressed for a night out. He closed his eyes, seeing himself plunge his hands into her hair and bury his face in it. He started to fantasize about her, haunted particularly by her wide and fascinated eyes and those luscious lips of hers. With a shudder he shook his head in disgust and bent to splash cold water on his face. Reaching up for a paper towel, he straightened and dried his face eyeing himself sternly.

"Get a grip, would you?" he complained, wadding up the towel and shooting it into the basket with perfect aim. Striding purposefully to the door, he shoved it open and marched to the water machine. Digging into his jeans pocket for the coins, he dropped them in and punched the select button. Tapping his fingers on the Plexiglas he waited for the thing to drop, and finally a 16 oz bottle dove toward the bottom of the machine and hit on impact. He bent to reach inside, gripping it in one hand as he stalked back toward his office. He grunted a greeting to the security guard, who passed him without expression or answering word.

_Now there's a machine,_ he thought, vowing to hold onto what little humanity he still had left. Here they were seriously cut off from the real world, deep in the bowels of the imprisonment of Division. He often judged a regular prison cell the better choice, having experienced both for a time. There nothing was pretend and everything was black and white. Here there were far too many illusions of freedom and everything was muted in tone. Division did offer a remote chance of redeeming himself, which was the only reason he'd stayed this long. But his time was running out.

Sliding into his chair he pulled up the cap and lifted the water bottle, draining a third of it as he eyed the monitors along their route. Tapping the proper keys he quickly pulled up the security cams surrounding the nightclub and shook his head at the crowds of well-heeled guests lining up outside. He pulled up the interior views and eyed the cavernous club, searching the crowd for their target. After a few minutes he found him and zoomed in on his face as he sat talking with one of his colleagues. Able to read lips, he snorted at what he could make out, thankful that in this setting the blare of the music prevented any audio monitoring. Satisfied that he was staying put for now, he brought up the adjacent views and noted the tough-looking man with shifty eyes who stood nearby.

"Gotcha, goon," he breathed, panning out and concentrating on the music while he waited. Disco wasn't his style so he switched off the sound and began a survey of the exterior. It looked clean, so he switched to the curb and spotted their limo, his heart accelerating as it pulled up and the door opened. Watching Michael climb out looking all suave and debonair he laughed aloud, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. As he opened the rear passenger door Alex climbed out, gently smoothing down her dress as she exited the vehicle and swept her cape around her hips. She led the way in, Michael trailing along in her wake at a safe distance.

"Alright, we're good to go," he stated, bringing up all views as he concentrated on the Alex screen. She climbed the stairs, reaching toward her ear as he spoke to her alone. "How you feelin' Beautiful?" he asked quietly, seeing her lips lift toward a smile. She approached the entrance, gazing up into the cameras and shielding her mouth.

"Fine, now that you're here," she breathed, nodding to the guard who admitted her. Michael shoved his way closer, still waiting to enter as Birkhoff adjusted his resolution once she was inside.

"Target is sitting by the pool of goldfish toward the back, not that you really want to know," he stated blandly. He heard her husky laugh as she headed in that direction.

"You should have come too," she said quietly as he watched Michael enter and keep his distance.

"Is that an invitation?" he replied softly, watching her approach the target.

"You decide," she answered with a nervous huff. "Here goes—over for now."

He heard her click off as she passed the bodyguard. "Just lift your chin and smile," he stated, wishing he had the chance to go along. _Someday, Alex, in my dreams._

"Excuse me," he heard the target call out, using her fake name as she stopped just a few feet from him. Turning her head, she looked right at him and shifted her purse up under her arm. Her brows went up as he rose before her.

"You wouldn't by any chance be Sofia, would you?"

Birkhoff tapped his keyboard to adjust the resolution. "Yeah, he's brilliant alright," he muttered, watching her stifle a laugh.

She extended her hand, clutching her purse with the other. "Why yes, I am—are you Andre?"

He shook his head at the guy's cocky stance and small talk, refraining from further commentary for now. Switching to Michael's position he kept an eye on them, unable to picture himself in the guy's shoes. Michael lifted his drink and drained it, grimacing up at the camera as he laughed and shifted his eyes back to Alex and Andre, temporarily switching off his mike as he studied their interaction.

"Don't be fooled—he's just another machine," he stated, drumming his fingers on the desk. "A rich and powerful one, but who still has to resort to internet connections to find himself a date. Pathetic."

He'd once been headed in the same direction as the guy until his political leanings had redirected his course, much to his father's disapproval. Watching Alex move to the dance floor with him, he studied her moves with a smile playing around his lips. The target danced too close and regrettably had none.

"How you ever thought of picking up chicks with those moves, we'll never know," he murmured, starting to move to the music himself as he in his empty office. Suddenly aware of what he was doing he stopped, vowing to take some time off just to play at being a real person. If Percy would even let him.

Not liking the way the guy's eyes moved restlessly over her, he stiffened as he leaned closer to Alex, placing a hand on the small of her back. She turned her head and squinted at him in surprise, looking like she wanted to keep dancing. But he leaned closer and spoke into her ear. Birkhoff stretched over his keyboard, turning up the volume in her earpiece but unable to hear what he said—the music was just too loud. He watched them make their way off the dance floor and head toward the back, taking note of the way Michael stiffened. He ordered the team to intercept and at Michael's nod switched to the two other agents present. They began to close in on the couple as he quietly directed Alex.

"Once upon a time there was a tower in a beautiful kingdom," he said into her earpiece. "There a lovely princess lay sleeping from a curse placed on her years ago," he added zooming in on her face as she turned toward one of the cameras, her expression tense. He saw the target take her arm as he guided her toward the elevators, the sight of the guy's hand on her sending off more alarms.

"Oh no you don't," he warned, punching in her cell phone speed dial as the bodyguard closed in on them. Michael came up behind him as well.

"Turn and face him with a smile," he ordered as they neared the elevators. Drumming his fingers atop the desk he saw her look down and pull out her cell phone. Then she smiled up at the target and said she needed to take the call, momentarily dazzling him with her smile. They paused while he pulled his gaze from her and impatiently scanned their surroundings. She held up her hand in apology as she pretended to be talking to an old friend, giving Michael time to slip in.

"Let's see how easily you can distract him," Birkhoff murmured, watching Michael engage him in conversation. After a few seconds he made the offer, capturing the man's interest and making him even more nervous. He nodded to his guard and crossed his arms, giving Michael his full attention. He didn't even notice when Alex walked away, eyeing the other agents who kept a safe distance from her.

"So we should get together sometime for brunch," she chatted as he watched Michael lead the guy to the bar, bodyguard following with a frustrated expression.

"Yeah only make it dinner," he answered, alerting the driver and the other agents to cover Michael. Releasing her now that the plan had changed, he leaned back and relaxed as she started toward the coat check room. "How'd you like to try that new Mexican place downtown?" he breathed into her earpiece.

She looked up into one of the cameras and nodded, thanking him as she waited for her cape, cell phone in hand. He rambled off a recipe stating he could cook for her, enjoying their impromptu argument about ingredients as he worked. Slipping her cape over one shoulder she headed out the door where he had the driver waiting for her. Watching until she climbed in and drove off, he then checked Michael's location, gave a few orders to the other agents and left them to close the deal Percy had indicated.

"Agent 4 on the way home," he announced, signing off as Michael took the targets arm and escorted him off to where Percy was waiting. The others followed instructions and signed off with him, leaving Michael in charge of the closing. Then he heard Alex's voice in his earpiece.

"That was close," she sighed as he leaned back tiredly, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his temples. "Birkhoff? You still there?"

"I am," he sighed, trusting she would get his text about the details ensuing in her absence. "Good work—I admit to having underestimated him though."

"It's alright," she reassured him, "but he's obviously not as up-front as he seems."

"You can say that—what's with the move to get you up to the penthouse?"

"He obviously thinks he's a lot smoother than he is—"

"Yeah and his bodyguard had saliva dripping from his mouth—" he teased.

"He did not!" she said in mock outrage. "You could have warned me, you know—"

"I did warn you—"

"Well I didn't catch your drift," she complained.

He sat straighter, wishing he had a visual on her. "It's code, sweetheart—wait, you don't actually believe I'm into _fairy tales_?"

"I don't suppose you have much time to read...if you can."

"I can read, ok? And the bit about the tower was supposed to alert you, Princess."

"Ok ok—I could have studied the blueprints more closely—"

"That way you would have guessed right away."

"Who would have thought he'd make a move like that?" she marveled. "He certainly can't dance—"

"Never underestimate a nerd, especially when we're compensating for any kind of lack," he warned, watching Michael hail their other limo while the agents climbed into the van waiting in the alley. "If we have any moves…they'll definitely be fast ones."

"Well I appreciate the save," she laughed softly, "but right now I just want to get rid of these heels. My feet are killing me."

He stared at the monitor outside Division, waiting for her return. "It'll all pay off someday, sweetheart," he sighed tiredly. "You did well—and don't bother debriefing, we'll do it in the morning. You've earned your rest."

"All right, then… good night, boss," she sighed, clicking off her earpiece.

He watched her car pull in, waiting until she got out. The car drove off as she headed inside. He followed her route from the next camera, watching her smile up at him and wave. Then she trudged up the hall toward her room, high heels swinging from one hand. It wasn't until her door closed that he relaxed and breathed a prayer of thanks. Too tired to get up, he thought about their relationship and dared to hope it might even develop into more of a friendship. Whether or not it was allowed, he no longer cared. He needed her, and he even sensed that she needed him somehow. Maybe it was his sense of humor, which had earned him Nikita's friendship. But that was all.

With that he pulled himself from his chair, logged off and set up the night watch. Deciding not to wait for his replacement, he walked stiffly out the door.

"Sorry I'm a little late," Archie greeted him as they passed in the hall.

"No problem."

"Hey, get some rest," he called after him.

Waving backhandedly, he headed for his own quarters. "Yeah man, I will," he called back. "Only another five hours until my class…"

Once he lay spent upon his bed he found he couldn't sleep. He'd kept the lights off to avoid a migraine, but still couldn't seem to relax. Closing his eyes, he saw her face again and smiled. But it was a very long time before he fell asleep.

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt_


	2. Ch 2 Lessons

_**Chapter 2 Lessons**_

_**Alex typed in her temporary password, glancing covertly at the teacher.**_ He lowered his coffee mug, eyes shifting around the classroom as his tongue peeked out, catching a drop of coffee from his lip. Her eyes were drawn to his mouth until she realized she was staring and shot her attention back up. His eyes imprisoned hers and she knew he'd noticed, but then he shifted his attention abruptly, letting his eyes travel from student to students as he slowly paced the rows of computer stations.

"Hacking you will soon find out requires imagination and intuition," he lectured in a bored tone, leaning over Tom's keys to tap something for him, "something you may possess if you could dig deeply beneath the mounds of useless trivia clogging your thought processes."

She stifled a laugh, earning his immediate attention. "Something amuse you, Alex?" he warned before she shot her gaze back to her screen.

"No sir," she murmured, quickly catching up to the rest of the class.

"Good, because I am not here to amuse you, I'm here to make sure you don't get yourselves killed when you're sent out to infiltrate someone else's system and you have to be quick."

"What about fail safes?" Tom asked, keeping his eyes on his work.

"We'll get to that later," Birkhoff shot back, shaking his head and moving on. He glanced at Jaden's screen and frowned, leaning over her shoulder to reset her keys. "Like this—you'll get it eventually."

She glared up at him as he moved on. "You do have to follow the rules we've gone over but once you advance to the upper levels you'll need a less objective motive so keep working and try to think outside the box for a change," he ordered, stopping to lift his mug to his lips again.

She escalated to the next level, eyeing him when she felt no one else was watching. He looked tired from their late night assignment despite all the energy drinks he must consume on a regular basis. Coffee only added to the mix, and he looked paler than usual. She noticed a small cowlick on the left side of his head which she feared the other students would soon notice and ridicule, but he didn't seem to mind. Fighting the urge to defend him, she glanced at his long black jean-covered legs and the charcoal gray hoodie he wore. He reached his desk and splayed his arms to stretch, and she watched the eggplant colored tee shirt he wore stretch against what looked like a surprisingly muscular chest. Tearing her gaze away she typed in a few logs and tried to decide why he intrigued her so much. Maybe it was all the contrasts, his pale skin and blonde hair offsetting his dark-colored clothing, or his angry barking lecturing tone vs. the soft husky voice and whisper she'd heard in her earpiece. Looking up, she caught his gaze sliding across her face and offered him a tiny smile as she wondered about his past.

Rumor had it he'd been here even longer than Michael, whom Percy had recruited eight years ago from a military hospital in Saudi Arabia. He'd lost his wife and daughter in a car bombing and later had fallen for Nikita. To her regret so had Birkhoff, if the other rumors were true, and she meant to ask Nikita about it the next time they met. As for Amanda, she'd told her herself about being head of a psych unit at a prestigious hospital in Boston before becoming involved with a patient she'd been too weak to resist. Percy, Amanda had told her, had been an executive for the CIA before going undercover into Division. But Birkhoff remained pretty much a mystery even for the gossips. All anyone knew about him was that he'd been imprisoned for hacking into the government's mainframe before Division pulled him in. It wasn't a surprise given his intellect and persistence, but she wanted to know more. He'd only been 16 when they put him in a federal penitentiary, trying him as an adult. But what had driven him to go that far knowing where it would get him? She wondered about his family and where he was from, and by now gossip couldn't satisfy her. She wanted to ask him herself, but most of all she wanted to look into his eyes when she did.

"Alex—stop daydreaming and get to work," he shouted from the front of the room before eyeing the clock again. "You've only got a few more minutes before we break."

"Sorry," she called out, sitting higher on her stool and glancing up to find his piercing gaze still on her. But as everyone started typing faster she thought she saw a hint of a smile lift one corner of his mouth.

"I'm really sorry," she added, eyes back on her screen. "I was just thinking outside the box."

"Really?" he said flatly, his expression doubtful as he walked toward her section while she typed a string of commands. "And which box might that be?"

She glanced up at him as he stopped, lifting his mug and gazing at her over the rim. "Umm—I guess I trying to think of a loophole in the base program design."

He took a swallow and resumed pacing. "Ah yes, the veritable loophole strategy," he sighed, stopping at Jaden's side. "Good but not imaginative enough—try advancing that to mid level."

"Ok," she sighed, starting to reprogram as he leaned over Jaden's screen, his face screwed up.

"What on earth is _that?_" he said in a disgusted tone.

"What do you think it is?" she retorted as he straightened. The noise level in the room fell as every eye focused in the coming confrontation.

Birkhoff shook his head as she glared up at him. "It wasn't a rhetorical question—what _are _you doing?"

She shrugged innocently, looking up at him with a smile. "I thought I'd add a porn link, that's all," she stated. "Surely that will distract the target long enough so I can hack him."

"Yeah well it's inappropriate and counterproductive to the assignment,"he stated, reaching over to delete the string. "Try another approach— you have potential if you can manage to drop the attitude."

"Yeah, well I'm just copying you," she muttered, resuming her typing.

"I'm the instructor, which allows me to speak however I please," he lectured in a warning tone. "If anyone else feels they can lead the class be my guest."

Alex glanced up, noting how everyone lowered their heads and typed furiously.

"No? I didn't think so," he yelled, leaning close to Jaden. "If you don't like my class we can always get you reassigned to kitchen duty," he said pleasantly.

"Fine with me," she said in a bored tone. "I'd much rather peel potatoes than be in your class."

He straightened, bent his arm behind his back and bowed. "Your wish is my command," he shouted. "Anyone else like to join her, cause I actually prefer students who care even the tiniest bit about getting ahead."

Jaden got up slowly and held his gaze as she slowly pulled on her sweatshirt, forcing her breasts out at him. "Oh and about that porn link? I 'm just following your example, _teacher,_" she purred.

"Yeah, well have fun learning how to peel potatoes in one continuous squirly-gig—"

"You're just prejudiced because of my skin color," she hissed, heading for the door. Three other African American students looked up, eyes glaring at her.

"Think what you want, I really don't care," he shot back, waving dismissively at her as she opened the door. Leaning over Tom's hand, he punched something on the keyboard. "Ciao, sweetheart!"

She lifted her hand and gave him the finger, sauntering into the hall as he shook his head. Glancing at the clock he straightened.

"Let's take a 15 minute break and be back on time?" he announced, reaching for his mug again. Walking toward his desk, he leaned back against it as the room cleared.

Alex kept working, glancing over at Tom, who was finishing up something. She eyed Birkhoff as he reached up to rub the back of his neck with one hand. Meeting her gaze, he pursed his lips as she continued typing. Tom got up with a sigh and breathed he'd be back.

"You're entitled to a break, you know," Birkhoff sighed tiredly, watching her.

"I know," she said, feeling her heart quicken at the look in his eyes. For a moment neither of them spoke as her fingers raced across the keys. She was aware of him pulling away from the desk to come toward her. He stopped at her side, crossing his arms.

"You know I can tell you're better at this than you let on," he said quietly, his voice so deep it vibrated across her skin.

She looked up, holding his gaze. "I like it, that's all." _Actually I like you,_ she hoped her expression said.

His gaze narrowed before lowering to her lips. "Yeah well we don't always get what we want."

"I'll do better," she promised, thrilled at the glint of response she'd seen in his eyes before shifting her attention back to her screen.

"Some extra tutoring will help," he suggested, shocking her. She glanced up into his eyes, which looked dark enough as navy blue.

Well aware of the risk she was taking, she smiled up at him. "That would be great—I know you're the best and I really want to follow in your footsteps, Professor."

His eyes lit with amusement before he turned away. "Whatever…come back at 8 and we'll go over some other problems."

"Yes Sir," she said gently, watching him go out the side door. Keeping her head down, she quickly accessed the shell program and typed Nikita a message.

"Birkhoff thinks I'm an idiot."

As she scrolled through the class problems she saw the answering note: "Don't underestimate him…"

_**Birkhoff leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. **_"Damn," he whispered, trying to get the vision of her eyes from his mind. His heart was pounding from the tension between them and he knew he was in serious trouble. "Look, don't touch….hell, I can't even look!" he muttered as the bell rang and summoned his students back to class.

Pulling away from the wall, he glanced around the edge of the bricks into the corridor and watched them file back in. "God help me," he groaned as he passed the cooler and counted to ten. "Only half an hour longer."

She was getting to him, and he had to admit he enjoyed it thoroughly. Maybe it was because of the risk they both faced, his being the greater. Amanda was watching him closely, and Michael already knew his past history of lingering in the video conference room for his weekly five minute luxury of a phone call to Amsterdam. A _phone call_! He wasn't guilty of any visual involvement, just audio and that had already been two months ago. Once Michael was onto him he couldn't risk anymore such indulgences, and once Alex had been dragged in he had no more interest. She'd captured his interest from the very first time he'd laid eyes on her. He knew it was suicide but he frankly didn't care. She was worth it.

"All right little children!" he called as he strode back into class, avoiding looking in her direction. He clapped his hands and they all actually took their seats, their yapping quieting to an awesome silence that went straight to his ego. "Listen up—we're going on a trial run and whoever passes gets to sleep in for a week!"

They groaned in unison at first, then got to work as soon as he mentioned passage out of their morning class for a week. "Yes I can do that without prior warning—"

"Seriously?" Tom interrupted, looking a bit scared for doing so. "We can sleep in and miss this class for an entire week?"

"That's what I said—now I want you to reboot and when the system's coming up get into the operating system," he ordered, watching Alex's eager expression stay glued to her screen. She was into this, and she was hiding her capabilities from him. He suspected her of being a lot more than met the eye, though she put on a good act. He only hoped her interest in him wasn't an act as well.

"Come on now, this is Programming 101, let's get a move on!" he shouted, making some of the less adept students cringe. "Hit the function key, you should remember which one and how often. We're gonna do some serious hacking of the registry files pending your timely arrivals…"

Roaming the aisles, he eyed each screen, pausing opposite Alex to stare at her profile. She was a small very neat package, he couldn't help noticing, probably the only attractive girl here who was shorter than he was, and by a good six or seven inches which, in his book, made her marriage material. He still held onto the hope of someday having a wife and 2.5 kids, not to mention a house in the country. But not in suburbia...never there.

"Alright Alex and Tom are in—what's up with the rest of you?" he called, resuming his roaming. "Come on, we only have half an hour left and this is the fun part!"

They all groaned as he nodded to Michael's wave of interruption. Walking over to the door he met him there, barking out the next few commands to take them into the trial run. "You can help each other on get in while I speak to the brass," he added, stepping out into the hall though he kept an eye on them.

"We're in trouble," Michael said quietly, crossing his arms as he looked up at him. "Percy's onto us."

Birkhoff tensed but smiled indulgently before shifting his attention back to class. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Nikita, what else?" he whispered, moving away from the door and gesturing to him to follow.

With a sigh Birkhoff stepped from the threshold, keeping his attention on his students. "What?"

"She's got a mole in here, he thinks," Michael worried, his gaze flitting from one end of the hall to the other. "We're his prime suspects."

"Come on!" he shot back in a whisper. "He knows we're stupid for befriending her, but not crazy!"

"Maybe, but regardless be on your best," Michael warned, leaving his side. "Later, man."

"Yeah, well thanks for that," he called after him, shaking his head as he strolled back into the classroom. "Come on—penetrate the system! What've you all been doing while I was gone?"

He watched Alex's shoulders lift as she hid a giggle, secretly relishing her appreciation for his dry sense of humor. Like Nikita she seemed to understand him and accept the difference in mood he often had, which was a rarity. He paced up and down the aisles monitoring each screen for any serious problems, remembering the days when he'd had Nikita in this very classroom. She'd been at least five years older than he was at the time, yet somehow they'd managed to become friends. By the time Michael arrived Nikita was half in love with the newbie, though he still considered her hot and teased them both about it. Michael he'd dubbed Sir Lancelot, realizing now how young he'd been predating both of them. Just a kid, in fact, yet charged with teaching both of them the rudimentary basics of hacking and programming. It was his lot in life after the hit he'd taken in the field that second year, and after Percy had decided to trust him with Operations despite his hacking background. It had taken him months to recover the use of his arm, during which time he'd been reassigned and had stayed ever since. But he still missed the action of field work.

_Now what does that say about me? _he thought as he monitored the next row of students. But he was bored and weary from teaching, getting pasty and losing muscle tone from being confined indoors all the time. He worked out whenever he could, but still lost some muscle tone and strength from what was basically a sedentary job. If he was grumpy enough and shouted loud enough Percy would hear about it and then maybe he'd get a field assignment just for a break. The last one was over four months ago, and he was ready. His aim was even better than it had been and he knew he had that going for him. As he strolled by Alex's station he smiled at the thought of going out in the field with her and maybe letting her see just how good an agent he was. Or had been.

"Good job," he congratulated her, nodding to Tom. "You too," he added.

"Thanks," the older recruit stated, eyeing the clock. "Can we leave early?"

Alex looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Yeah, sure—you too sweetheart."

She glanced nervously at Tom but got up and nodded. "Yeah, thanks Professor."

He resumed his pacing, glancing toward their departure after they'd signed off and cleared out their stuff. Not liking the way Tom walked so close to her, he watched Alex stiffen in posture as they went down the hall and disappeared beyond the windows of his classroom. The room seemed to darken without her and he sighed, eyeing the progress of the other students.

"You do as well as they did and you can leave early too," he lectured, heading back to his desk and thinking of the new threat from Percy. A cold shiver ran down his spine at the thought but he concentrated on finishing up and heading back to his quarters for a much needed power nap.

_**Percy narrowed his gaze on their subject, glancing at Amanda's profile. **_"What do you think?"

She sighed and tossed her hair back over one shoulder. "He's too abrasive… he needs to be back on active duty, and he's certainly recovered—"

"The man is a genius with an intellect higher than either of ours," he stated, watching Birkhoff sling his messenger bag across his chest. "I can't risk him getting shot again."

"But he's alienating the new recruits and his negativity is detrimental to their progress," she countered. "At least give him one mission, just for a break in his routine."

They watched him leave his classroom and weave his way against the stream of recruits heading for the cafeteria. A few of them bumped shoulders with him, and as proof of her assessment he suddenly grabbed one of them and shoved him against the wall, holding him there though the young man was much larger and taller than he was. The recruit looked terrified and apologized profusely, but Birkhoff pointed a finger in his face and shouted for him to watch where he was going. Then he released him so abruptly the young man stumbled while the crowd stood staring in shock at their nerdy professor.

"I think I see what you mean," Percy surmised with a grimace. "Alright I'll take your advice this time, but he'll need our best backup."

"Fine but give him free rein and make it an important assignment," she advised. "He'll suspect anything less, and no doubt respond by taking even more risks."

"How about giving him the Russian job?"

She turned to stare up at him, considering it. "That's a high-risk assignment but he does know the language."

"I'll send Michael along—"

"Make it Roan instead."

He pulled his gaze from the monitors. "Birkhoff hates Roan—it's a bad mix for that level of duty."

"But they won't be chit-chatting, and don't forget your suspicions about Michael."

Satisfied when Birkhoff shoved his way into his quarters and locked the door, they faced each other.

"He's ordered in again but he needs some rest," Percy stated. "And you're right, we do need to keep them apart for now."

She inclined her head. "I wouldn't worry about Birkhoff and Nikita…but Michael and Nikita is another story."

"We'll keep an eye on them both," he said coolly, "though I trust your judgment completely."

She watched him lift the receiver and punch a speed dial number. "Roan, I want you to get ready for Moscow—Birkhoff will be in charge of the operation…yes you heard correctly. Understand that no harm must come to him in anyway…alright, he'll need a few days' rest before you go so plan on Monday. I'll be briefing him tonight. Just be his rearguard...it'll be just the two of you."

He hung up as she raised her brows. "He'll need a haircut and fitting for a tux."

"Do your best, my dear," he smiled. "He may not object as much once he knows where he's going."

Amanda pursed her lips. "I hope you're right."

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt_


	3. Ch 3 The Field Op

_**Chapter 3 The Field Op**_

_**Wincing at the tight band encircling his neck, he tried slipping a finger beneath the starched collar.**_ Ignoring Roan's muted chuckle he shot him a warning look. "How am I supposed to accomplish anything if I can't even breathe—never mind, don't answer that."

Roan nodded toward the theatre. "Time to go, Boss."

"Yeah it's time alright," he muttered, glancing around at their surroundings and pulling his trench coat close. "Let's boogie then."

Stalking across the street he waited while Roan kept an appropriate distance before following him. The familiar bulge of his holster along his left side was hopefully hidden by his oversized coat, though the wind plastered it against his body. It also kept blowing his newly styled hair into his eyes, further annoying him. The aviator glasses Amanda insisted he wear felt huge and rested uncomfortably on his cheekbones. He eyed the line of limos parked before the entrance, ducking between them as he forced a smile, answering the interested glances of several attractive women.

_It's the tux and the bangs, _he realized, eager for this job to be over with so he could go back to being himself. Percy and Amanda both had insisted he disguise himself with a dark auburn color rinse and an updated cut, careful to remind him that his photo had been plastered all over the news, even though that had been over 13 years ago. They insisted however that someone might still recognize him.

He moved along the sidewalk, shoved rudely aside by a man in the crowd. He had to stop in order to regain his balance as a deep voice cursed him out in Russian. "Watch where you're going!"

Shooting back an equally rude insult, he glanced up at the huge tattooed man who eyed him carefully, making him even more uncomfortable. Then he whistled something he would have rather not been able to translate.

"Oh yeah?" he waved dismissively, continuing on his way. "Why don't you go find someone your own size and persuasion?" he yelled, cursing his playboy image makeover. A wave of ugly memories from his days in prison assaulted him, worsened by the appreciative whistle that followed in his wake. Thankful for the crowd milling around he disappeared into a side passageway for a quick escape, hoping Roan hadn't witnessed his humiliation.

Once hidden from street view, he paused to study the opposite buildings and caught a glimpse of his partner heading toward the main entrance. Too bad Michael hadn't been chosen to accompany him—they worked better together and were actually friends, but Percy had insisted he take Roan instead, a cleaner instead of an operations agent! It was just too sketchy, this whole assignment, and he wanted it done and over with.

Deciding his way was clear he pulled open the alley door and went in, heading up the side stairs toward the main lobby. He could already hear the orchestra warming up and glanced up toward the mezzanine level and the focus of the job. It was to be a simple hack and copy run, with room keys awaiting him up in the baby changing room. Since this was an evening performance families weren't expected to attend, but you never knew. Circling the first level he passed slowly through the waiting crowd, stepping into a corner to check his weapon and remove his coat. Draping it over one arm he headed back into the mob, fixing a jet setter grin on his face and trying to relax as people actually notice of him. He saw Roan already in position by the champagne server, a flute of in his hand as he smiled uncharacteristically at the well heeled attendees.

Slowly working his way toward the stairs, Birkhoff reached up and tapped a message in Morse code into the tiny mike of his earpiece to let him know he was going in. Climbing the stairs, he found and entered the deserted restroom after checking that it was empty. Heading toward the changing tables he unlatched the designated one and lowered it. Finding a thin envelope taped under the plastic surface, he slipped it into his vest pocket and repositioned the table. Listening for sounds of approaching guests, he heard nothing and exited unnoticed. Pausing to hang his coat in a broom closet, he unbuttoned his jacket and approached the office, resting an ear against the door to listen. The occupants were due in around 11, giving him plenty of time to hack, evaluate the intel and copy it if it was good.

Sliding the key into the door lock he heard a click, slowly pulled out his pistol with the silencer in place and edged inside. Moving through the darkened room he was thankful for the moonlight illuminating the way to the safe, which he unlocked with the combination provided. Sliding out the laptop he carried it to the desk and fired it up. Glancing nervously around the room, he wondered why he'd been so eager for field work after what had happened to him the last time. Shaking his head, he waited until the desktop loaded and started to hack into the system. Wracking his brain for the language keys he'd not used in decades, he managed to finally open up the operating system and find the accounting program. Reaching in his vest pocket for his flash drive, he plugged it in and started copying the files. It didn't take long, and he was tempted to go beyond the basic assignment as he considered what these goons were actually doing with the money. Pursing his lips, he defied Percy's orders and deleted the original files with a sly smile.

"Take that for good measure," he whispered as one by one they were deleted. Lifting his head to listen to the distant sound of the performance, he felt the old thrill of covert success as he powered off. Then replacing everything he shut the safe just as a warning message sounded in his earpiece. He froze, listening intently before he heard voices drifting toward the room.

Locking the safe, he slipped into the shadows and glanced into the back room. The voices were getting louder so he edged along the wall into the small file room, eyeing the single window with dread. This was his backup escape route in case of emergency, and he frowned at what that entailed. Climbing up onto the table he unlatched the window, trying not to worry about what he'd have to deal with once he was outside. Lifting himself out through the small opening, he heard the door lock click and winced at the sudden flash of light. Pulling his feet through he shivered in the cold wind and closed the window behind him. Getting a grip and establishing himself on the ledge he edged toward the adjoining window as he heard the men in the office he'd just left.

_Just my luck, _he thought, trying not to panic at the prospect of falling as he made his way along a ledge that barely accommodated the length of his shoes. Pressing close to the wall he slid along, buffeted by the wind and his hair blowing in his eyes. Then he remembered his trench coat. Deciding that he did need Roan's help, he broke the latch and crawled in through the window whispering a prayer of thanks for not falling. Then he tapped his request and headed for the door, finally moving back out into the hall. Shoving his disheveled hair back he tried calming his racing heart as he made his way toward the opposite stairwell. Quickly descending to ground level he pushed against the door, feeling the cold air hit him in the face as he strode out into the alley and headed back toward their van.

Once he was seated in the driver's seat with the heat starting to warm the van, Roan rushed toward him and opened the door.

"What the hell was that," he grumbled as he climbed in, "leaving your coat?"

"I'm sorry," he cried as he put the van in gear and pulled out of the alley. "I'm not used to being all trussed up and wearing a dress coat," he tried explaining. Moving into the lighter traffic he headed back toward their hotel.

"You finish everything?" Roan checked, eyeing his dusty clothes with suspicion.

"Yeah but I had to climb out onto the ledge," he complained, frowning at Roan's unexpected laugh. "Hey I'm a little rusty, ok?"

"A little?" he chortled, looking ahead as he began to relax.

"Anyway, thanks for the warning," Birkhoff grumbled, pulling onto the main thoroughfare.

"No problem, that's what I'm there for—" he answered, interrupted by the sudden pinging of shots that hit the metal. They both ducked as Birkhoff accelerated. "We're being hit!"

"What the hell—" he agreed, glancing in the side view mirror as more shots pierced the rear window.

Roan pulled out his gun and lowered the window, reaching out to fire back. "I thought you got out unnoticed!" he cried as a BMW came up on their right.

More shots were fired while Birkhoff zigzagged up the street, then careened around a corner to cut into an alley. Trying to remember his way through the city, he watched their pursuers follow before they were suddenly cut off by a delivery truck.

"Yes!" he shouted, speeding out onto the main avenue and hedging along the north side of the city. Roan finally turned around, nodding to him.

"You outfoxed them," he said with relief, tucking his pistol back into his holster.

Birkhoff drove toward the beltway, heading for the airport. "Guess we leave our luggage," he muttered, driving at top speed and thankful they didn't have far to go.

"I'll change the flight while you call in," Roan stated, meting his sidelong glance. "Good job otherwise."

"Thanks, you too," he said, patting his jacket pocket. "Passport's never left behind, if I remember correctly."

Roan nodded, staring ahead at the terminals and pointing to theirs. "On your right—Gate D."

They parked the van and locked up, and when he finally checked his appearance Birkhoff whistled at the bullet hole that had gone clear through his sleeve. He glanced at Roan's raised brows, then down at his pants. The fabric was split over his right knee and was dusty from his escape. When he tried brushing the dust away from his thigh it only smeared and looked much worse.

"Great," he muttered, shuffling forward in line. He couldn't risk stopping to buy another change of clothes—they only had a few minutes to make the new flight.

"Don't even think about it," Roan confirmed, hiding a smile as they edged forward again.

"Amanda will kill me," he groaned as he prepared to be called forward to the boarding agent.

"I wouldn't want to be you," Roan sighed, checking his watch again.

"Yeah me neither," he sighed before stepping forward. They had to split up from this point on, so he pretended to be traveling alone. As he walked toward the waiting area he saw Roan step up to the agent. As Roan nodded to the woman the call to board was announced and Birkhoff turned his back to him. He smiled wanly at the older woman who looked down at his dusty clothes with a disdainful grunt, then up at his formal wear. She shook her head and turned away.

"Great," he sighed in English, "looks like I'm stuck in this monkey suit for the duration."

_**Alex drummed her fingers atop her station, trying not to worry about him.**_ She hadn't seen Birkhoff for two days, not since she'd showed up at 8 p.m. for their tutoring session the other night only to find him a no-show. Had he forgotten? she'd wondered, too afraid to ask after him for fear of getting him in any kind of trouble. She had the definite sense that his offer to tutor her was not exactly kosher. Still, she'd worried through a pretty sleepless night only to find a sub the next two mornings. As she fought to keep her eyes open she decided she much preferred Birkhoff's shouting and off-color jokes to the patient smiles of their retirement-aged female spinster teacher.

Eyeing Tom with a commiserating look, she watched him shrug before returning his attention back to his screen. With a sigh of resignation she finished up the assignment without much enthusiasm, thinking that class just wasn't the same without Birkhoff. _Nothing was the same without him._

When the dismissal bell finally rang everyone jumped up and rushed out, eager to leave the room and head for lunch. Gathering her things together she followed, surprised by the sound of a familiar voice out in the hall. Stopping just outside the classroom she stared at the two men standing in the middle of the hall with Amanda while the crowd parted and streamed all around them. Eyeing the one whose voice was Birkhoff's, she stared at him in disbelief.

"Look I'm sorry Amanda," he said near a shout over the noise of the recruits, a frustrated look on his face. "We were compromised and had to get out fast—you can buy another tux, can't you?"

Amanda stood with her hands on her hips, her back to Alex. Next to Birkhoff stood a tall man who was trying hard not to laugh at the encounter. They were both were dressed in black tuxedos but Birkhoff's was dusty and torn. His shirt was open halfway and his tie was missing, unlike his impeccably dressed partner. Still, she tried not to gape at how handsome he looked. When he ran a frustrated hand through his hair she stared at its dark auburn tint in confusion. _What on earth was going on?_

"Look I've got a bad case of jet lag and Red Bull-withdrawal and trust me, the combination is deadly," he warned Amanda, his hands up as if to avoid being shot by her. Alex saw her glance at the other man, who shrugged as Birkhoff reached into his pocket and held out a flash drive toward her. "Ok I forgot the trench coat too but here's your intel," he said flatly, turning his head away as if trying to summon the strength to hold his temper. It was then that he looked right at her, catching her staring at him.

Caught in his sights, she marveled at the changes in him. His dyed hair was styled to frame his face and was parted to one side, hiding half his forehead above a pair of aviator shaped glasses with dark lenses. Both accented his strong jaw line and the scraggly beard he usually wore was nowhere to be seen. As she stared at him his eyes seemed to burn into her until she tore her gaze away. Then she noted the ragged slit at his knee and the coating of gray dust on his thigh. But she'd know his voice and personality anywhere, despite the changes in his appearance.

"Well, at least you weren't wounded," she heard Amanda sigh now that the crowd had dissipated. "I'll let Percy know you're back so you can debrief and get some rest."

Alex watched her turn away, as did the man at his side who waved a backhanded farewell to him and left him standing virtually alone in the hall. To her surprise no one else seemed to have noticed or recognized him, and as she started toward him he glanced away, shoving his hands in his pants pockets.

"It _is_ you," she stated as he looked up, the tinted glasses keeping her from seeing into his eyes. Even standing directly in front of him, she couldn't see much through the dark sepia color.

"How was your sub?" he asked tiredly, not seeming surprised that she recognizing him.

"Hi," she breathed, clutching her backpack straps as his gaze swept down her length and back up. "Incredibly boring," she admitted, noting his slight nod. Breathing in the pleasant scent of his aftershave, she decided it was a refreshing combination of evergreen and rain and suited him perfectly. He looked incredibly attractive, even before he offered her a half-smile of apparent approval.

"Good," he sighed, leaning toward her. "I'll be back on Monday morning, so spread the word. And I won't be letting anybody off as easily as she has."

She lifted her chin with a nod. "I look forward to it."

He pursed his lips, glancing down at his rumpled clothing with what looked like self-consciousness. "We had to make a quick get-away and lost our luggage," he stated, looking up into her amused eyes before he gazed heavenward. "God— I feel like James Bond or something in this get-up," he stated.

"Where were you?" she couldn't help asking, entranced by his behavior and appearance.

Her words made him stiffen, then he glanced around before touching her arm. "Walk with me?" he asked quietly, his voice low.

She nodded and turned with him, falling into step as he shortened his usually long stride and slowed his harried pace. They headed down the hall toward Operations, finding it empty. She dared a glance up at his profile and bit her bottom lip.

"I missed you," she whispered to him, noting again how he stiffened at her words. Veering off toward a vending machine he approached it, stopping to examine the contents as if she hadn't spoken. Coming to his side again, she watched in silence as he dug into his pocket and pulled out some change. Opening his hand he revealed several foreign-looking coins that she immediately recognized.

She looked up. "Rubles?" she whispered as he shut his hand and shoved it back into his pocket. Clearing his throat, he turned his head to glance down at her.

"Sorry—I don't seem to have the right change..."

"Let me," she offered, taking some quarters from her jacket pocket and inserting them into the water bottle dispenser as he waited for them to drop.

"You don't have to—"

"It's my treat," she interrupted, glancing up at him with a nervous smile before he moved closer. She froze, her heart racing at his closeness.

"Look I'm sorry about the other night," he said close to her ear, his head bent close. Goosebumps rose along her skin as his breath touched her cheek. She turned her head toward him just as he looked away. "Something came up," he added softly.

"That's fine," she said in a small voice, holding his gaze when he looked at her again. A jolt of electricity shot between them, holding them in a state of suspension. When she realized the bottle had dropped, she bent as calmly as she could to get it for him. Straightening to her full height, she pulled up the cap and handed it to him.

"How about we try again Wednesday night, same time?" he asked as their fingers brushed. Without waiting for her answer he took the bottle and tipped his head back to drink. She watched the movement of his throat as he downed nearly half the contents and capped it with a lusty sigh of appreciation. "Thanks…" he said, moistening his lips with a quick slip of his tongue.

"No problem," she said in a small voice, trying not to stare at his mouth. "Wednesday night's fine," she said despite her plan.

He nodded. "Good—now if you'll pardon me I've got to get this ridiculous stuff out of my hair and put on some decent clo—"

"Where did you go?" she interrupted as he stiffened in alarm and led her further back into the corner. She touched his arm as he turned his back as if to shield them from view of the video cameras. Then he pulled off his glasses and eyed her with suspicion.

"Why do you need to know?" he said just above a whisper, watching her closely.

She stared into his marvelous eyes, her breath caught by the hungry, desperate look in them. As she hesitated they darkened in color, almost to navy blue. Never before had she seen such a color in someone's eyes, nor read so many conflicting emotions within them.

"I—I don't really know," she sighed more than stated, lost in his changing expression, which now looked almost annoyed.

"It was a field assignment, which I couldn't pass up," he stated, glancing over his shoulder. "They don't offer me the chance much anymore..."

She watched him put his glasses back on and straighten, disappointed that the moment was lost. "Well, I'm glad you're back," she told him, "and that you're ok. "

He studied her expression a moment, lips quirking as if to challenge her. "Really?" he said doubtfully, pausing to stare at her from behind the dark lenses.

_Why? _she read in his expression as the air practically crackled with energy all around them.

She nodded. "Really… maybe we'll get an assignment together someday."

At her words he sobered, eyeing the empty hall. "You should go," he warned quietly, turning away.

She caught his sleeve and he froze. Sensing that he didn't want to leave, she tightened her grip on his arm. "I need to see you," she whispered, "please?"

His expression grew even more wary and he glanced over her shoulder, out into the empty corridor. "Like I said, we'll meet for some tutoring, ok?"

She shook her head, eyes pleading with him. His brows shot up.

"We can't," he whispered, gazing at her intently. "_Understand?_"

"No," she whispered back as he pried her fingers from his arm.

"I've got to get ready for debriefing," he stated soberly, nudging her out of his way.

"Please?" she whispered even as he left her standing in the corner. He walked away with a stiff set to his shoulders, then disappeared around the bend in the hallway. Confused and bereft of his presence, she reminded herself that she'd hacked into Human Resources to find his address while he was absent and she couldn't wait until Wednesday. Tomorrow night when the recruits were given a night off she would meet with Nikita as planned, but if he was home he might more open to talking if she visited him there. It was risky but she didn't know what else to do. She needed him, not even really knowing why. And she sensed that he needed her. But for now all she could do was wait and hope.

_**Nikita stared at her with eyes full of question, then understanding dawned in her expression. **_"Wait a minute—you _like _him, don't you?" she croaked, shaking her head. "You like Birkhoff!"

Feeling her color rise, Alex shrugged. "He's interesting," she admitted calmly.

"To say the least," Nikita breathed, studying her carefully. "You do like him, don't you?"

"Alright, I admit it—I do. He's funny and brilliant and cute too."

Nikita fought a smile. "But does he _know_?"

"No! Please don't tell him, Nikita!" she pleaded, glancing around to be sure no one overheard them in the crowded atrium.

Nikita sobered, considering the implications. "How long has this been going on?"

"Nothing's going on!"

"Oh yes it is," she argued, taking her arm and walking toward the food court. They passed the crowds in virtual silence until she sighed with resignation, stopping to face her. "You know what—it's actually good, even considering the circumstances."

"Yeah, well there's that," Alex huffed dejectedly, feeling more and more frustrated. She was still trying to gather her wits and her courage before daring to try to ring his doorbell.

"Actually I've decided it's perfect," Nikita added, looking thoughtful. "You'd be good for each other. He's a really good guy beneath all the sarcasm, and I think he's really lonely. He's mature enough for you, and he'll definitely take care of you, unlike a lot of other guys. And he's extremely loyal, which says a lot."

Alex stared at her in surprise. "Really? I thought you'd discourage it."

She shook her head. "On the contrary—I say go for it, girl! Tell him you like him, but be subtle."

"But I don't even _know_ why I like him, I just do! And believe me I fought it, knowing how closely Amanda and Percy watch him."

"That is a problem," Nikita admitted, "but with my help maybe we can fix that. You know I've been there—sometimes you just can't help who you fall for."

Alex bit her bottom lip. "I know there are rules and that he's my teacher but I don't care! I even like the fact that he's maybe ten years older—"

"He's 29, though he doesn't look it," Nikita stated. "That makes him only six years older."

"What bothers me is that he's got a crush on you," Alex admitted.

Nikita smiled, as if remembering something from the past. "You know, I have to admit I flirted with him a lot those first few years, mostly just for fun."

Alex had to smile at the mental picture she was getting. "Yeah he's a lot of fun, especially when he doesn't mean to be…"

"He's really very charming, in a gruff lost-puppy sort of way," Nikita stated, her smile fading. "And there's the problem of Percy being in the equation. Maybe together we can remove him."

Alex nodded. "And you like Michael, despite him being Percy's."

Nikita became thoughtful as they walked along. "I'm not denying it," she admitted it, gazing off into the distance. "I've been in love before, and it didn't end well for him at all..."

"But that was different, wasn't it? Michael and Birkhoff are both agents."

"That's the only consolation," Nikita worried.

"Well I can't see Division cancelling either of them, just for having a relationship."

"I hope you're right about that," she admitted, pulling her jacket closer. "They're certainly not expendable, which is encouraging…now, how on earth are you going to _tell_ him?"

"I don't know, except to just come out with it!"

"No Alex, you have to prepare him—"

"I already told him that I needed to see him," she replied.

Nikita looked unconvinced. "How did he react?"

She sighed, entertaining doubts yet again. "He seemed alarmed, but that was because we were standing near a surveillance camera. And I know there's something in his eyes when he looks at me, like he's really lonely, desperate even."

Nikita looked worried. "Alex—do you know anything about his background?"

She shrugged. "Only that Percy recruited him to Division after he hacked into the Pentagon's security, and that he was pretty young at the time."

"He was 16, Alex—he's been under Percy's control for almost 13 years. That's longer than either Michael or I have been."

"So?"

"The point is he doesn't know anything else," Nikita stated. "It might be too difficult to openly go against Division, despite how he feels."

Alex nodded. "I'll try to keep that in mind…but he was a field agent before and he just came back from one."

Nikita looked stunned. "Birkhoff went out into the field? Where?"

"Former Soviet Union, judging by the coins in his pocket."

"And he seemed ok?"

She nodded. "Yeah, just tired and a little disheveled."

"I'm stunned!" Nikita admitted, shaking her head. "But that might make it easier for him to break away, if he's given the chance."

"That's what I'm hoping," Alex sighed. "Did you ever go on assignment with him?"

"Once," she admitted, her expression changing to one of concern. "We were both just a year into being recruits and he was already teaching us in his computer class," she said, shaking her head. "He was that brilliant."

Alex nodded. "Go on."

"But don't get me wrong—he was one of the top recruits Division ever had. His aim is nearly perfect, and by the time I went out with him he'd already aced his first three ops."

"And the one you went on?" Alex prompted.

"He led the op into Germany—our orders were to destroy a neo Nazi arms dealing network but our cover was blown. When things hit the fan it was a shock, but he made sure the rest of us got out first. On his way out he was ambushed by one of the victims we thought was dead. He was wounded pretty badly."

Alex stared at her in alarm. "What happened?"

"He was shot clear through the shoulder and spent 15 minutes pinned down. By the time we got to him he'd nearly bled to death. We rushed him to Landstuhl Medical Center for surgery, but it was months before he recovered the complete use of his arm. Percy was furious and wouldn't allow him out again except on rare occasions. He was put in charge of Operations, where his real talent always was. I think it was more of a challenge for him as well."

"Is that all you know about him?"

Nikita nodded. "It's all anyone knows. He's never told Michael anything more, and they're friends."

"I thought you were friends, too."

"We were, at least until I pistol whipped him."

Alex grimaced, not really liking the thought of Nikita hurting him.

"But he never told me his story...I don't think he's spoken of it to anyone. If you like him you'll respect his privacy. He was the youngest recruit Division ever took, and came more unwillingly than most, so just keep that in mind."

"I will," she sighed, looking around and noting the time. Three hours til curfew…"Well, I should get going."

"We're finished here," Nikita replied. "So—you going to pay him a call, after all we've discussed?"

"I'd like to…think he'll let me in?"

Nikita smiled, laying a hand on her shoulder. "I think he just might, but be careful—for both your sakes."

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt_


	4. Ch 4 The Visit

_**Chapter 4 The Visit**_

_**Birkhoff stiffened at the sound of the knock, turning his head to stare at the door. **_Heart pounding, he imagined Amanda waiting on the other side with another analysis to further threaten his status for field work. Although a visit from her was decidedly less threatening than one from Percy. Quickly stuffing the documents into the pouch he slipped it beneath the table, pressing up on the Velcro to make it stick. The knock sounded again, three soft raps that were not Amanda's usual knock, or Percy's for that matter. Surprised, he wondered if it might be the paper boy again coming to collect, though he'd already explained to the kid that he'd cancelled and paid in full a month ago. Poor thing needed the money, and he wouldn't be surprised if he was here to try to get him to subscribe again.

"It' s gotta be him," he murmured, going to the door and pulling it open. He froze, staring blankly into Alexandra's magnificent eyes. She smiled shyly, gazing up at him with obvious embarrassment.

"Sorry to bother you…" she said just above a whisper, glancing past him with curiosity.

"I thought you were the paper boy—" he said in amazement, the words trailing off as he chided himself for not checking the peephole. But never would he have imagined Alex standing on his doorstep.

"Can I come in?" she prompted softly, glancing back over his shoulder with sudden concern, "unless you have _company_?"

He stared at her, the word registering in his brain. He wondered if she actually thought he might have another woman in here with him, the mere thought making him nearly laugh out loud.

"Ah no—I don't have company," he replied, telling himself to stop acting like an idiot. _But what was she doing here?_

"Don't you remember?" she whispered, eyes pleading with him, "I said that I had to see you?"

"Of course I remember," he shot back, finally coming to his senses. Glancing up and down the hall he reached forward, gripping her arm and stepping aside to guide her in. He shut the door and bolted it, leaning his weight onto one hand which he planted upon its cool surface. Closing his eyes in frustration, he felt torn between sheer joy and horror at her coming here.

"I'm sorry I didn't call first…"

"You don't have my cell number," he stated, finally turning to face her. With a frustrated sigh he shoved his hair back with one hand. "What are you _doing _here, Alex?"

Her hopeful expression faded as she studied his tortured expression. "I wanted to see you— it couldn't wait til tutoring tomorrow night."

He shook his head, feeling overwhelmed. "If anybody saw you come here or if anyone finds out—"

"They won't," she soothed, staring up at him in confusion. "I was careful—"

"Actually you can't _be_ here," he decided, turning to his desk and scratching out his number on a piece of paper. He ripped it from the pad and held it out. "Here's my number but no one—and I mean _no one_ has it but Percy and Amanda, ok? You can call me whenever, but right now you _have _to leave. And make it quick before anyone sees you—"

"No," she stated, grabbing the paper from his grasp and placing a hand on his chest, effectively stopping him. He froze, staring into her eyes as his nerves short circuited. "Birkhoff, you really need to learn how to relax—"

"It's Daniel," he stated, catching her hand away from his pounding heart as her expression changed to wonder.

"But—I thought your name was Seymour," she said, turning her hand inside his and making him realize he still held it. Releasing it abruptly, he made a mental note not to touch her again.

"That's my middle name," he stated, feeling like he was 12 year old.

She smiled warmly, reaching up to gather her hair forward, letting it fall over her navy pea coat. "Daniel suits you," she breathed, turning her head to look around at his apartment. He started at her hair, the scent and sight of it making him want to bury his face in its softness. Then he mentally shook himself.

"Look, as unexpected and pleasant as this little visit is, you have to go," he announced, turning to grip the handle of the door. Eyeing her meaningfully, he was thrown when she didn't react to the blatant hint. Nodding his head toward it meaningfully, he waited. "Now."

"But I just got here," she said close to a pout, crossing her arms. "You know I risked a lot trying to get your address."

"Oh I can imagine," he smiled sarcastically, still fearful that one of the brass would show up and find them together. "Don't get me wrong, I'm honored—but you still have to go," he added, turning to look into the peep hole to check the hall.

"Why are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Ah, there's the slight problem of your curfew ending soon not to mention rules about no commingling between recruits and staff," he stated, turning back to face her. "Trust me, I'm totally flattered that you went through all that trouble but I don't want either of us to suffer the punishment—"

"I'm not worried," she challenged, holding his surprised gaze. Then to his horror she came toward him, lifting her hands before he caught her wrists.

"What are you _doing_?" he choked, watching her smile reappear. Slowly pulling free she grasped both sides of the collar of his flannel shirt and gently pulled them from the neckline of his sweatshirt. Stunned, he held perfectly still while she smoothed it down, her fingers brushing his collarbone.

"There—you seem very jumpy tonight," she said softly.

He swallowed, leaning back against the door as she moved closer. "Alex, you need to go—right now."

She tilted her head, with a slight frown. "But we have over an hour before I have to be back," she said calmly, smoothing her hands down the zipper of his sweatshirt, making him crazy with wanting.

"Look if Percy finds out you've been here, he'll go nuts—"

"He doesn't scare me—"

"Maybe not, but he scares the hell out of me," he choked, reaching sideways to grab his coat from the nearby hook. He straightened and inserted one arm into the sleeve as she moved back slightly, watching him. "Ok we'll sneak out into the alley first, then I'll take you back that's all—see? No problem," he stated, turning to unlock the door. "I'll see you tomorrow at our tutoring session, we can chat then—"

"I don't want to chat."

He glanced from the peephole to her bemused expression. "What?"

Her eyes were searching his, looking all dark and liquidy and he felt like he was drowning. "I know you like me, Daniel…"

"Really," he swallowed, turning the door handle behind his back. "I'm sorry but that's not an option—"

"It was you who started it," she accused softly, watching him carefully, "especially when you acted the way you did at the vending machine."

"Me? Started what?" he choked, realization dawning. "Oh, that! Look, I was exhausted—I admit it—and maybe I acted a little jet-lagged and crazy—"

"There was more to it than that," she argued, reaching for the sleeve of his coat he hadn't put on, "but if you want to pretend there wasn't, I guess you can."

He shrugged into the rest of his jacket, tugging it over his chest. "Look I already said I was crazy tired that night—"

"Admit it, Daniel—"

"Ok, ok!" he said in frustration, holding up his hands. "I admit that when you noticed I was back it kind of went to my head, but in an Ozzie and Harriet kind of way."

"Who?" she breathed, looking unconvinced.

"Oh—I guess that was before your time—"

"I really like you too," she stated, lifting her chin, "and Nikita thinks we'd be good for each other."

He squinted at her in confusion and growing alarm. "Nikita? What on earth is going on—?"

"Don't worry about being canceled," she waved dismissively, "our situation is nothing like hers was, being involved with a civilian and all—"

"Our 'situation?'" he repeated in disbelief. "What situation—no never mind that for now, what's this about you and Nikita? Are you saying you've had contact with her? Because if you have, we're in even deeper trouble that I thought—"

"I'm her mole, Daniel," she interrupted, effectively silencing him.

He stared at her in disbelief, his mind shooting off along too many tangents involving Alex, Nikita and Percy's hatred of his rogue spy. "Don't tell me—"

"I'm your data breach, Birkhoff."

He slumped back against the door, lifting a hand to his head. Closing his eyes, he tried blocking out her words. "Please, don't—"

"It's true," she said quietly, grabbing the lapels of his coat. He opened his eyes and stared at her. "I'm working with Nikita, and you're the first to know."

_**Alex smiled to herself as she settled into his embrace,**_ enjoying the feel of his arms around her as they hid in the space outside the secret tunnel. They listened to the sound of footsteps slow down, then there was a pause and silence. Leaning against him, she could felt the solid strength of his chest and felt his cheek touch her temple. She squeezed his arm as the steps resumed, thankfully heading away from their direction and down into the adjacent hallway. They echoed eerily back through the open ceiling as the only the security guard she knew of completed his usual rounds. But Birkhoff didn't know that, nor did he know she'd been using this unused wing of Division for months to go in and out to meet Nikita. She'd insisted on showing him, despite his reluctance, explaining that it was the safest way to get back in together, which he'd ended up having to agree.

Turning back to look up at him at the same time he lowered his head to speak, their movements brought their lips into close proximity. Unable to keep from staring at his well shaped mouth, she was tempted to rise to her toes and kiss him but it was way too soon. Still, when she looked up into his eyes she saw desire cloaked in a warning glance that told her to beware. Touching his shoulder, she turned her head to whisper into his ear.

"He won't be back," she whispered as he nodded, relaxing his hold on her waist. Reluctantly stepping back, she held onto his arm and waited nevertheless. He nodded to her, expelling a soft sigh of relief as he lowered his arms to his sides.

"I'm getting too old for this," he whispered before she took his hand, raising a finger to her lips as she smiled. Nodding down the hall, she felt him squeeze her hand in agreement and she led him the rest of the way.

They stayed close as she led the way past the HVAC tunnel into which she'd crawled to spy on him in his lab. Nikita had told her its whereabouts, mentioning the fact that he was her primary choice if they were ever to gain an ally within Division. She'd tried that unsuccessfully, kidnapping him during his previous op to capture her when she'd visited her fiancé's grave. But he had remained loyal to Percy, out of fear if nothing else.

"How much farther?" he whispered, glancing at his watch. "Only 30 minutes to curfew."

"Not far," she whispered back, turning away with a secret smile. Her plan was working perfectly, and by the time she led him to her door he was more than eager to hide momentarily in her room. Slipping her key card into the slot she turned the knob and opened her door, glancing back at him and noting his reluctance nevertheless.

"Just for a minute," she whispered, relieved by his furtive glance down the hall and answering nod. He entered behind her, turning to bolt her door. Raising a hand to his temple he turned and faced her.

"Ok, what am I doing here?" he said more to himself than to her. Obviously on edge, he eyed every detail he could see even as she took his hand again.

"I have something for you," she said quietly, leading him to her bureau.

"No really, I have to go," he stated nervously, shaking his head. "If I'm caught in here I'm in a world of trouble, even more than you'll ever be—"

"It's fine," she whispered, opening the top drawer and taking out the small envelope she had waiting for him. Turning back to face him she saw him cross his arms, either in defense or impatience. "Plus I wanted you to see where my room was."

"It's nice, great—very homey," he said distractedly, pinning her with his gaze. "Now can I go?"

"After you take this," she stated, reaching for his hand and opening it for him.

Into his palm she pressed the small marcasite pin which was in the shape of a cross, gazing up at him in the dim light of her room. His expression was guarded before he stared down at it in silence, obviously at a loss for words. She wondered if she'd done the right thing, given his silence and lack of reaction.

"It was a gift from my mother for making honors in school," she told him softly, "in computers…"

He lifted his eyes to hers, clearly stunned. "Computers?"

She nodded. "You were right about me knowing more than I let on…I thought it was an appropriate token of our friendship."

He stared back down at it, swallowing hard. "No one's ever given me a gift before," he said quietly.

Astounded by that revelation, she held her breath until he closed his hand around it. He touched her arm with his other hand, seemingly moved by her expression of friendship.

_Could it be true, that no one ever gave him a gift? _she wondered. When he said nothing more she knew it must be true. He clearly had no idea how to react, and before she thought about it she reached out and put her arms around him.

Stepping closer, she pressed her chest against his and held onto him, daring to lean her cheek on his shoulder. After a moment she felt his arms come up behind her. Then he pressed his cheek against her temple. Tightening her grip, she hugged him while he inhaled slowly, then exhaled just as slowly. Time seemed to stand still before he stiffened, cleared his throat and then gently disengaged himself.

"Thank you," he said, nodding at her hesitant smile but with an aloof expression. "I should go…"

She watched him tuck the pin into his shirt pocket before he turned away, hugging herself now that he was leaving. He went to the door, where he turned back with raised brows.

"I'm sorry I've been impossible tonight," he stated, shaking his head. "It's just that I ah…I don't usually have anyone act like they want to be around me unless it's to fix something for them."

She nodded. "I understand—we friends?"

He nodded. "Of course… I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ok," she smiled happily, "but try not to be too hard on me?"

"Deal—now let me out of this lovely little prison, will you?"

"Ok, if you insist," she played along, going to him as he stepped cautiously out into the hall, eyeing the security cameras. The monitor lights were off, giving him time to sneak out of range and cross the hall to slip into the shadows. When he'd safely made it to the other side he nodded, starting back the way they'd come. She'd already explained the way which led back to the vending machine where they'd first spoken in private.

When he disappeared she closed the door and leaned back against it, still seeing his expression when she'd given him her pin. Overwhelmed with compassion for him, she was even more convinced that he was the right one for her. Praying a quick prayer for his safety she turned to get ready for bed. His class was an early one, and she didn't want to show up with dark circles under her eyes.

_**Amanda stared at the door of Birkhoff's lab, still not quite believing what she'd seen. **_Checking her watch again, she noted the time as 12:15. Glancing up at the "no admittance" light she raised her brows and gripped her coat in one hand. He'd entered only a few moments ago looking very distracted and guilty, but with Birkhoff that wasn't all that unusual. What _was _unusual was the fact that he'd appeared quite suddenly from virtually out of nowhere when he was supposed to be home resting up from his trip. Before he'd left she'd tracked him from Operations finding nothing unusual except the fact that the security cameras at his apartment building were once again malfunctioning. Of course he lived in a rather seedy part of town, unlike her upscale condo in the center of town. But there was something about him that was different, ever since he'd returned.

Watching the lights flicker from behind the darkly tinted glass of the lab, she saw the shadow of his moving about, checking the equipment. "Now what are you up to this time?" she whispered to herself, tempted to bust in and interrogate him. But that would never do—Percy respected him a great for his intelligence and capabilities, so she had to seriously consider every move she made concerning him. But she didn't completely trust him, knowing of his past friendship with Nikita. And, as someone who was in a position to effectively bring Division down single-handedly, Birkhoff was a potentially dangerous man indeed.

_If I play my cards right, you'll soon be answering to me, _she thought with a sly smile. _And Percy be damned…_

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt_


	5. Ch 5 Programming

_**Chapter 5 Programming**_

_**Turning to face his 8 a.m. class, Birkhoff pursed his lips and stared back at his students. **_Their eyes were wide, mouths half open and some even giggled behind raised hands. A few of the bolder ones gestured to their own heads while staring pointedly at his navy knit hat. He'd expected to take some flack for wearing it in an attempt to cover the dyed and styled cut he'd had to accept in order to take that field op. Most of the color had washed out, except for those damned highlights. Unfortunately there was no way he could hide his clean-shaven face—he'd never been able to grow a full beard, and the one he usually wore would not be rushed back into existence soon enough.

"Going skiing after class?" someone murmured, raising a low level of murmurs and muted laughs.

"Idiot—Birkhoff's a skater if I ever saw one—"

"Shut it—he cleans up nicely, I think—"

"What's that—red _highlights _in his hair?"

"Dude he looks even younger than we do with a shave…"

Crossing his arms he waited with a sarcastic grin pasted on his face and eventually the reactions started to dwindle down. Alex, he noted remained calm, her huge eyes on him as she waited patiently for him to start teaching. A flash of all that had transpired between them the night before shook him, but he cleared his throat and lifted his chin.

"Ok, now that you've had your fun for the day let's get going," he announced, turning on his heel and uncapping the black marker. Shaking out his arms a few times he half faced the white board and scribbled a long string of equations meant to stun them into terrified silence, assuming they had no idea what he was writing. With a satisfied grin he finally finished with a flourish, turning to face them before he pointed to the goof-off sitting in the back row.

"Mr. Jennings—tell me what I just wrote," he commanded as the 6'7" kid straightened, jamming his elbows onto the surface of his keyboard tray.

"Ah, the Pythagorean theorem?" he said in a business-like tone, earning chortles of laughter from his peers. With a lazy smile he glared at him, lifting his gaze suggestively to the ski cap.

"No, this isn't math class," he retorted, squinting at him from behind his glasses. "What are you, Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz? Ms. Meredith—try giving it a shot!"

"Um… I've no idea," she groaned, sliding lower in her seat and avoiding his gaze.

"That's what I like, honesty," he commended her, noting her pleased expression. "Piermarini—how about a wild guess?"

"The prescription for Celexa?" he answered with a smug grin.

"No— though we all love a good SSRI," he sighed, pointing to the more serious student in the front corner. "Mr. Rediker, could you venture an _educated_ guess for us?"

Looking agitated, the young man studied the equation again with a troubled expression. "It's obviously an algebraic equation, but compounded with another unknown string."

Birkhoff pointed his marker at him. "Ah, on the right track as usual—anyone else?"

At their silence he gazed around the room, tempted to call on Alex but aware that he'd promised to go easy on her. She probably knew the answer, after all. "Come on, come on—just call it out, you're making me tired trying to remember all your names!"

"The process of photosynthesis?" an Indian girl smiled shyly.

"Sorry this isn't biology 101," he answered, leaning back against his desk.

"Einstein's theory of relativity!" one of the jocks in the back row mocked, earning everyone's laughter.

"No! Wake up, people, this isn't homeroom!" he shouted, crossing his arms. "Mr. Rediker was on the right track, no surprise. The real question is why would we be writing math equations in Programming 101 in the first place?"

He waited, amazed that with just increasing the volume of his voice he could get the desired effect, for their mocking comments and laughter finally deserted them. He jabbed the marker over his shoulder in an impatient gesture. "Think, people—I know it's early and we'd all rather be sleeping…"

When no one offered any reply he picked up his iPad and switched to overhead mode, glancing up at the screen as he wrote more equations for them to view. "What we've all just experienced right here in our humble little classroom is an example of how students tend to freeze up when they see a mathematical equation written out. But, with the use of computer programming, we can put an emphasis on the active procedural semantics of equations and help students better understand their use."

Glancing toward them, he saw their blank expressions, though Alex wore a tiny smile as she kept her eyes on him. He felt his heartbeat pick up the pace at the warmth in her gaze, quickly glancing back down at his iPad.

"Ah, translation?" Thom ventured, and when he looked up he saw that he was wearing a hopeful grin.

"What this means is that through basic programming exercises you'll develop good problem solving skills that will not only help you hack into the bad guys' systems, but also keep you from being a DOA statistic once you're sent out in the field—get it?"

"Ohhhh," Thom answered, nodding before he glanced at Alex.

Birkhoff noted the stiff expression she adopted whenever Thom checked her out. Personally, he longed to throw the guy out of his class. Unfortunately he was one of the better students, and was graduating soon enough to field agent. He glanced at the clock, having already wasted a good 15 minutes.

"Okayyyy… open your programming files and read Section 2.b—and don't just skim over it," he ordered, closing out his iPad program. "I want you to spend 20 minutes on the section then we'll have _informed _discussion and proceed on to the exercises."

Leaning back against his desk he lifted his coffee mug and took a swallow, not caring that it had already gone cold. It was strong and had just the right proportion of half and half, bracing him for the next hour and hopefully keeping him going till he reported to Percy up in Operations at 10. He watched them get to work, inwardly relieved at the way things had gone so far. Teaching was the bane of his existence, but Percy and Amanda both had insisted he do it. Somewhere out there, he thought as he let his gaze flit past Alex, they hoped to find the next Nikita, or maybe even his replacement. If he survived that long.

_**Alex eyed him covertly, glancing just above the level of her screen to avoid anyone noticing. **_Her fingers flew over the keys as she took notes on the section. She'd taken programming over a year ago and remembered most of it, but never had she had this much fun and it was all because of the nerdy professor she'd developed a crush on. Shifting her eyes back to the text, she studied it a few moments and noted the key points, glancing back up at him just as he pulled off the knit cap. She watched in secret as he ran his fingers through his hair, no longer hiding it from them. She'd known he'd give up on hiding his makeover, for now that they'd had their fun teasing him about it there was no reason to continue. He'd taken it all in stride, practically laughing at himself. Even now she watched him look up and direct his gaze toward them again, brows lifted in challenge as if expecting any further comments. She thought of Jaden working in the kitchens, almost positive that if she were here she'd offer more than one.

Unable to look away from the blue blaze of his eyes, she froze when he shifted his attention to her. His lips parted a bit as she held his gaze. An arc of electricity seemed to shoot from him to her, and she swallowed in response. His eyes slipped lower, and she felt their touch on her lips before he looked away, picking up his mug again. Shifting her attention back to her screen, she saw Thom stiffen in her peripheral vision and knew she was in trouble. Glancing over at him, she saw his expression harden before he looked back at his own screen.

"Ok class, wrap it up—time for the real fun to begin," Birkhoff drawled in a bored tone, setting his mug down as he picked up his iPad again. He glanced toward the clock, then toward the wall of windows that opened out into the corridor. She couldn't help but notice how he steeled himself in reaction, and glanced out the windows herself.

"Let's go—time is money!" he shouted, turning away from the narrowed gaze that Percy wore as he stood staring into their classroom. He looked angrier than usual, she sensed, and it seemed to be directed toward Birkhoff. Her heart started to pound as she prayed no one had seen them together, shifting her attention back to her screen when Percy's eyes started moving in her direction.

They worked feverishly under Birkhoff's nervous energy, and she was so flustered and worried about what was going on between him and Percy that she had trouble concentrating. Birkhoff strolled around the room, coming up along her left side from the back of the class. He stopped close by, leaning over to study her work before his hand hovered over hers a moment. She froze, breathing in that pleasant scent of pine forest that was so subtle it was barely noticeable.

"You're a bit distracted today," he said softly, his index finger stabbing a few of her keys before he straightened and moved on.

She forced herself to keep her attention on her screen, where he'd corrected a blatant mistake she'd made. Eyeing Thom, she saw him stiffen visibly and throw her a disapproving look which she sensed she'd be dealing with soon enough.

"Professor, I have a question," Rediker called, gesturing in a wave toward him as he headed in that direction.

Alex focused and finished up her notes, reviewed them and sat back while Birkhoff worked with the star student for the last few minutes.

Thom rolled toward her workstation and eyed her meaningfully. "What's up with you?" he hissed, nodding toward Birkhoff.

She owl-eyed him with a smirk, shrugging her shoulders. "What's up with _you_?"

He shook his head with a frown. "Don't think I can't see!" he spat in a whisper as another student called Birkhoff over. "You _like_ him!"

She shrugged, glancing toward Birkhoff. "So? I like nerds."

His face reddened as he slid back to his station, obviously angered with her.

"It's none of your business who I like anyway," she hissed back, eyeing Birkhoff as he straightened. His gaze shot to Thom before he lifted a hand.

"Thomas—since you're the first one to finish, why don't you come up here and take over?" he shouted, gesturing with his hand for him to come up.

Thom rose stiffly, wiping his palms down his jeans and glancing down at her. She saw revenge in his eyes and glanced at Birkhoff, who shifted his attention to her as Thom approached him. Relieved, she basked in the knowing look he gave her before he handed over his iPad to Thom and swept his arm wide.

Thom, for once looking unsure of himself, reluctantly took the iPad and stood holding it, staring at whatever was written on the screen. Birkhoff, she noted, sauntered over to his workstation and sat down, glancing over at her. She hid a smile of thanks as he squinted at Thom's screen.

"Go ahead, teach," he called out, his eyes on Thom's work. "Looks like you've got a pretty good handle on things." He glanced up at him with a smirk. "Proceed."

"Ah, as Professor Birkhoff was saying," he began, nervously eyeing the door as it slowly opened. Percy stood at the threshold and Birkhoff shot to attention, rising from Thom's seat. Percy eyed him, then glared at Birkhoff.

"I'm afraid I need to interrupt," he announced calmly, gesturing toward Birkhoff.

Alex's throat tightened in fear as she tried to focus on Thom, who was awkwardly starting his little lecture. She was aware of Birkhoff staring worriedly up at Percy, who leaned down to whisper something in his ear. He nodded, glancing up at Thom.

"Keep going—you have another five minutes till you're through," he encouraged, glancing at her before stepping out into the hall with Percy.

Through the glass she saw the menace in Percy's expression, and Birkhoff looked truly alarmed. He shook his head, gestured as if in explanation, then when Percy stalked off he followed reluctantly, forgetting all about the class.

_**He jumped when Percy slammed both palms down onto his desk. **_ "You did _what_?" Percy shouted, his eyes bulging and his color approached purple.

"Sir may I say something in his defense—" Michael interrupted, halting when Percy held up a hand.

"No, Michael—I want to hear him defend himself—"

"Alright, ok!" he shouted, heart pounding. "I admit it—I deleted their accounts, but we all know what those slimebags were up to! I decided why not just put them out of business and save everybody the trouble?"

Percy leaned toward him, making him stiffen in anticipation of punishment. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?" he said in a deathly calm voice. "Your daring act is the subject of chatter all over the world!"

"I believe Birkhoff acted with our best interests in mind," Amanda said calmly, laying a hand on Percy's arm. When he turned to gaze down into her amused smile she offered Birkhoff a raised brow. "We can always count on him to do the unorthodox, and I'm afraid he can't help himself. Perhaps we should consider the benefits of the situation."

"Such as?" Percy snarled, straightening. "By the way, since this whole thing was your idea I'm interested to know how what he's done could possibly benefit Division."

She sat down on the edge of his desk as Birkhoff stared at her open-eyed, eyeing Michael who only shrugged.

"Well, for one thing his actions will no doubt save us the time and costs required for a return mission," she stated, nodding respectfully toward Birkhoff. "His perception and quick judgment only underscore the fact that he's perfectly suited for field work. His past experience has been outstanding, I'm sure you'll agree—"

"I don't care about his perceptiveness or suitability!" Percy hissed. "I don't _want _him making judgments, I want him following orders!"

"It was an easy in and out, sir," Birkhoff offered, holding up his hands. "They're effectively out of commission now, which is what the projected outcome was to be."

Percy threw Michael a regretful look. "I knew I should have sent you with him instead of Roan."

"I was already committed to another op, sir," Michael said, clearing his throat. "Sir, if I might remind you, Birkhoff was leading missions before I ever got assigned."

"And might I add he's certainly capable of operating alone," Amanda offered.

"It was a _team _assignment, not a one-man band!" Percy fired back, nodding to Michael before he glared at Birkhoff, driving him lower into the upholstered chair. "It seems our genius here has forgotten how to work well with others. I want you to debrief him again, and this time find a way to see that he understands the chain of command, will you?"

Michael nodded, glancing at his friend. "Of course, sir— I'll get right on it."

Birkhoff stared at them in frustration. _Hello! I'm right here so stop talking about me as if I weren't!_

"Perhaps a few more field trials might be beneficial," Amanda said, tilting her head to study him.

"Certainly not!" Percy objected, eyeing him with cold calculation. "In fact, I want him suspended from all field work for now."

His skin crawled at the look in Percy's eyes, but he offered a half-hearted smile. "Really sir, it was never my intention to disregard protocol," he stated. "I just took advantage of an opportunity that offered itself."

Percy sighed heavily, turning back to his desk. "Well then let's put that zeal in its proper place," he stated, shuffling some of the papers on his desk. "I need you here more than out in the field."

Birkhoff nodded, rising from his chair. "That's fine with me sir—"

"But don't kid yourself," he added, looking up. "I'll be watching you even more closely to be sure you can follow orders in general, and not just in the field. Now go—you're dismissed."

"Sir I must caution against confining Birkhoff to Division," Amanda objected, rising and smoothing down her skirt.

Percy glanced up at her from his papers, his eyes shooting down her person and back up. "Really, and why is that?"

"It's proven detrimental to his physical and mental health," she shrugged, eyeing the subject coolly. "He hasn't handled confinement well in the past—"

"Excuse me?" he protested, silenced by Percy's glare. Clasping his hands behind his back, he waited for them to decide his future.

"In order for him to effectively manage the stress level which accompanies overseeing Operations, he must be allowed time off for rest and leisure," Amanda explained, "and also to have occasional breaks from Division. You've offered these basics to the recruits, how much more should an officer of Birkhoff's rank have the same benefits—"

"Don't you understand Amanda?" Percy pleaded. "I'm trying to _punish_ him—"

"otherwise you're just setting him up for a breakdown," she predicted with a shrug.

Percy frowned at Birkhoff, who pursed his lips. Then he glanced at Michael.

"That's been my own experience, sir," he concurred, eyeing Birkhoff with sympathy.

"Alright I'll give him more time off _after_ we deal with the current crisis with Nikita!" Percy conceded, waving a hand and picking up his papers to scan them.

"Birkhoff's been on 24 hour call every third week," Amanda reminded him, patting his arm to soften the blow. "Perhaps this might be a good time to offer him two weeks of vacation, both to shake off his jet lag and rejuvenate a bit?"

"He is starting to show true signs of wear and tear," Michael added, hiding a smile.

"Hey, I'm handling it, ok?" he protested, lifting his hands in supplication. "I've even kept up teaching my early class, except for one stint from the substitute—"

"Alright, but let me remind _you_ that when on any assignment, in the field or at Division you follow orders and work as a team," Percy said coolly, "and refrain from riding off into the sunset like some sheriff back in the Wild West!"

"Alright I'm sorry," he shot back, nodding curtly beneath Percy's warning glare. "By the way do they have any idea who did it?"

Percy glanced away. "Not in the least," he answered with a sigh, "at least not yet."

"Well they'll never find out, I made sure of that," he stated, trying to get Percy to look at him. "I even imprinted a fake fingerprint and phony i.d. number just to throw them off—"

"I don't want to know, Birkhoff," he sighed, gesturing to Amanda and Michael to leave. "This matter is closed …"

As they filed out the door he eyed Amanda, questions tumbling through his mind. Why did she defend him? It almost sounded like she wanted to get rid of him by sending him out into the field, which was fine with him. Once they were out in the hall he ran a hand through his hair as they walked back toward the main section of Division.

"Whew—that was close," he breathed, eyeing Amanda. "Thanks for sticking up for me back there."

Her eyes lit up as she smiled creepily. "No problem, Birkhoff—we can't have you losing your mind on us, now can we?"

He slowed his steps as she continued up the hall, her high heels clicking coldly on the tiles. Staring after her with a sense of doom, he felt Michael move closer.

"What'd she mean by that?" he worried as they watched her disappear from sight.

Michael chuckled. "That your brain is more valuable than your field skills," he sighed, patting his shoulder. "Just be thankful she didn't recommend putting you in solitary again."

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt_


	6. Ch 6 Debriefing

_**Chapter 6 Debriefing**_

_**Still shaken from his meeting with Percy and wondering about Amanda's comment regarding his sanity, **_Birkhoff slid into the conference room chair. Resting his arms on the table, he shook his head in dismay.

"I still can't believe he found out," he murmured softly, aware of the camera pointing toward them. Thankfully the record light hadn't blinked on yet. "Who'd of thought Percy read chatter?" he wondered, looking up at Michael. "Not even the techs in Operations can stand doing that—it's so tedious and time consuming."

"He's unpredictable, I'll give him that," Michael sighed, strolling slowly around the table to face him.

"You know, I wonder if what just happened in there wasn't another one of the little mind games he loves so much," he thought aloud. "He always pulls them on me when I least expect it! He didn't even let me get back to my class, and I was really looking forward to setting that Thom guy up for some well-deserved embarrassment."

"You know if I didn't know better," Michael mused, peering down at him, "I'd say either you're baiting Percy just to see what he'll do, or you're seriously trying to get thrown out of Operations."

Birkhoff stared in disbelief at his supposed friend. "I wasn't aware of _trying_ anything," he warned. "And don't even pretend this is a _real_ debriefing.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Michael shot back, eyeing the camera. "You know Percy watches me like a hawk too!"

"Come on!" he croaked, leaning back in his seat. "He trusts you completely, unlike the rest of the world."

"Ah no—he doesn't," Michael argued, leaning both hands on the table to stare at him. "And you haven't answered the question."

He eyed him a moment, his smile fading. "But you haven't _asked_ one."

Michael made a face before concentrating on his question. "_Are_ you trying to anger him and get yourself into even more trouble?"

"What 'trouble' are you talking about?" he demanded. "Look I've been running myself into the ground just to keep up with all the work he throws at me, and without one complaint!"

"Alright, then what _really _happened over there in the field, huh? Something from the past set you off?"

A flash of the gay guy's face and wolfish whistle invaded his thoughts, but Birkhoff shook his head. "All I did was act by reflex—I don't like child porn dealers to begin with, and I knew copying their files would just delay things and allow them to stay in business...so I deleted them."

"Not a smart move, going against Percy's orders—especially on a probationary run."

He stiffened, his anger flaring. "It wasn't a _probationary _op—it was a high level infiltration op, thank you very much," he argued. "Not to mention being conducted in the _Former Soviet Union_."

Michael straightened. "You just don't get it, do you?" he huffed. "Why go ahead and play superhero when you know Percy's on a power trip high right now?"

"I wasn't playing the hero, Michael—"

"Maybe you're on your own power trip, huh Birkhoff? Or maybe you don't actually _want_ to do field work now that you've gone back out!"

Frustrated, Birkhoff shoved out of his chair and went to the window, staring out at the city. "All I did was operate under general protocol, but then again maybe I was wrong about our work being all about justice and wiping out the bad guys!"

"You and I both know there's a very fine line between good and bad," Michael stated, coming to his side, "but it's not _our_ place to decide which is which!"

"Ok!" Birkhoff faced him, pointing toward the window. "So then when I'm out in the field operating _without backup_ in a potentially dangerous situation _overseas_, I just dumbly follow orders? Is that what you want me to do?"

"Yeah, that's what I want you to do," he said, frowning and closing his eyes. "That's what _Percy_ wants you to do."

"Look Michael if you're _really_ going to debrief me just do it, ok?" he said quietly. "Go ahead—read me the riot act and lay down the rules. I'll even take handouts if you've got any—"

"What's up with you, man?" Michael demanded quietly. "You want me to treat you like a field opt probie? I'm trying to relate to you as the seasoned agent you are, but you're not making it easy."

"Ok—if I'm a 'seasoned agent' then explain to me why I can't actually _do_ anything when I'm sent out?" he shot back.

They heard the camera click on, then Michael moved between it and him as he studied his expression. "Amanda _argued_ for you to have this assignment," he reminded him, "so if you want to continue going out why not just pretend you're challenged by the ops they give you?"

Birkhoff eyed the camera, noting the red light indicating they were being recorded. "Look all I did was save us all a return trip," he sighed. "That was my call as an experienced agent—simple as that."

"So you weren't trying to prove anything?"

"I don't have to _prove _anything—why can't you guys just believe me?"

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Michael hissed. "If you want to get away from your desk job, you have to play by the rules."

He was taken aback. "Running Operations is hardly a desk job!" he protested, pointing a finger into his shoulder. "You try making split-second life or death decisions and put in the shifts I've had—"

_**Amanda shook her head in disapproval.**_ "Michael's just alienating him," she warned. "This is becoming counterproductive."

"Just give him a little longer," Percy said coolly, a smile curling at the edges of his lips. "We're about to see our brilliant computer genius blow the top off what he's _really_ up to."

She lifted her brows but said nothing, gazing back at the camera just as Birkhoff jabbed a finger into Michael's chest, making him back up as he pushed him. And this was the only person in Division close to being his best friend. "See?"

"_Now _we're getting somewhere," Percy said excitedly. "We break up their friendship and we've got them both where we want them! A house divided cannot stand!"

She turned to face him with a shrug. "I'm still not convinced Birkhoff is hiding anything," she decided. "Granted, his behavior is at times suspicious and even quirky, but that's part of the profile of a genius. It's unfounded, suspecting him of anything untoward, especially after all this time."

"Maybe not, but it's sure fun to watch."

She grimaced inwardly, troubled by the fact that Percy liked toying with Birkhoff so much. He singled him out as if to challenge him, and more often than not ran him through endless loyalty tests, on-call stints and suspensions of privacy. He'd even put him in lockdown on more than one occasion. In her professional opinion all of these were unhealthy experiences for someone with Birkhoff's personality and high IQ. Now, watching his behavior change before their very eyes—and toward Michael no less— she was sorely tempted to object though she sensed it would only make Percy prolong the test further.

"Look I've been accused of being a mole and breaching my own system design," she heard Birkhoff shout, "I've had my teaching sessions torn apart by educational experts all for the sake of improving recruit training, and now I'm being threatened with God only knows what for a field decision I made when I was the one in charge! "

"There's no need to be paranoid, Seymour," Michael soothed, eyeing him sympathetically.

Birkhoff threw up his hands in frustration. "You know what, I give up—fine, don't send me out on field ops anymore. I really could care less. You can even banish me to the dungeon for solitary, which frankly I'd welcome right about now!"

Percy laughed and slapped his thigh, getting up and pressing the intercom button. "That'll be all, Michael," he stated, startling them both, so heated had their discussion been.

Amanda watched Birkhoff's eyes close in frustration while Michael nodded, eyeing the camera. "I had it under control, sir—"

"Actually you didn't," he stated, eyeing her with a hint of amusement. "We've been watching the whole time, but thank you for an interesting experiment—"

"God, you've all got God complexes!" Birkhoff shouted, rushing to the door and pulling it open. "Know what? I'm not the crazy one here!"

Amanda hid a smile as she watched him stomp from the room, enjoying his sarcastic wit which was strangely combined with his levelheadedness. She also liked his passion, and not for the first time wondered what he might be like as a lover. In a world of Michaels and Percy's he stood out, and if Percy ever decided to cancel him she'd truly miss him. Admittedly it had come close a few times, but she'd always been able to convince her boss that solitary confinement was the best approach, given Birkhoff's background and notoriety.

"We're done here," Michael sighed as he went into the hall after him.

Smoothing her expression into calm encouragement she turned to face Percy. Apparently satisfied with his little mind games, he was already at his desk looking over the next item on his agenda. _How like a little boy he is, playing with his toys. Still, he is a somewhat attractive man, and no doubt powerful…_

"If you have a moment, I'd like to discuss a change in guardian protocols," he stated, looking up.

She smiled and went to his side with a nod. "Of course."

_**Michael clamped a hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off, quickening his pace as he strode down the corridor. **_

"Hey, wait up!" he heard him hiss, and when he stopped abruptly and turned to face him he looked relieved. Glancing up and confirming that there were no security cameras nearby, he waited impatiently.

"What?" he demanded in a low voice, still angry.

Michael stopped, his expression troubled. "Hey," he encouraged with a smile, slapping his arm. "It's fine—I think we pulled it off!"

"Yeah, terrific," he groaned, shoving his hair back off his forehead. "It's just that these routines are getting a little old for me."

"They bought it, I'm sure of it," Michael insisted, glancing down the empty corridor. "Look you did great, so what's the problem?"

He pursed his lips. "The 'problem' is that Percy is getting way too attached to playing his little mind games with me! You know sometimes I feel like I'm gonna lose it for real."

"You're _not_ going to lose it, ok?" Michael said conspiratorially. "We've got a lot staked on this and we can't afford to give up, not now."

Seeing the wisdom in his advice, he nodded curtly, glancing toward the corridor that led to his room. "Look my head is splitting—I need a little down time."

"Alright, but I wanted to warn you about something else, so bear with me another minute?"

He crossed his arms. "What is it now?" he sighed tiredly. "Though frankly I don't think I can hear much more today."

Michael leaned closer. "It's about you and Alex," he whispered, eyeing him intently. "_Roan_ told me to warn you to be careful."

"What?" He was stunned. "Roan? What's the cleaner doing spying on me?"

"Look don't worry—no one else seems to have noticed you two talking."

Birkhoff concentrated on his last word. _Talking _must mean no one saw her come to his building or see them sneak back here together. "That's really alarming," he hissed, "the fact that a cleaner is keeping tabs on me!"

Michael smiled teasingly. "You two seem to have bonded during your trip," he sighed. "But he did reassure me that no one else knows."

"Cut it, will you?" he sighed, glancing down the hall. "Seriously dude I'm not in the mood for soap operas."

"I'm just warning you, and so was he," Michael said in all seriousness, eyeing him closely.

He pursed his lips. "All we've done is talk, and I've offered to tutor her in the lab."

Michael bent close to his ear as he eyed the distant camera. "Look I've seen the way she looks at you."

"Dude don't go there!" he whispered, jerking back, "especially if I'm not going myself!"

His smile returned. "Why not? Tell me why _you_ shouldn't have a girlfriend?"

"Yeah right—like you and Nikita?" he shot back, turning to leave.

He caught his arm. "Trust me, it's probably the smartest thing you could do," Michael stated, "but that old security system at your building can't stay broken forever without arousing suspicion."

Birkhoff stared up at him. "Ok look—somehow she found out where I live and came to see me but I discouraged it. Believe me, I don't want either of us canceled, and I told her so!"

"Hey I'll admit to still having feelings for Nikita," Michael shrugged. "We're still human, and if you and Alex need my help I'll back you up, understand?"

"There is no Alex and me, got it?" he hissed, glancing furtively up the hall.

Michael chuckled. "If somebody like _Roan_ suspects it, you're doomed."

Birkhoff held his gaze. "Ok maybe she's got a crush on her computer instructor—no big deal."

Michael looked dumbstruck. "Don't tell me you're not attracted to her? She's beautiful, and a real sweetheart too."

"I haven't got a chance, and you know that."

"But it's kind of obvious she's into you," Michael insisted, patting his arm. "And with my help and Roan's, you might just have that chance."

Birkhoff shook his head. "Oh I get it—like once the order to cancel us is set, Roan's just gonna look the other way? Come on!"

"Who knows?" Michael grinned. "You must have been good to him somehow. Seriously, you've earned his respect and loyalty, from what I'm seeing."

Birkhoff squinted up at him. "Dude you seriously need a reality check! This is Division, remember?"

Michael shook his head. "You need someone in your life, man—I know what I'm talking about. And even if by some chance that's taken away from you, at least you had something to make it all worth it, know what I mean?"

Birkhoff stared at him a moment, sighing in resignation. "Yeah…I think I do. Look, I gotta go. Come 8 p.m. I'll be tutoring her in the lab, so maybe let the others know you're ok with that?"

"I'll do my best," he promised with a smile. "And good luck," he said with a knowing smile.

Birkhoff stood watching him until he turned the corner. Biting his lower lip, he glanced up at the clock. He only had two hours until Alex came here for tutoring. It much time to grab a sandwich from the cafeteria, take some NSAIDs and lie down to ease his aching head. Turning to head for the kitchens to beg for take out again, he decided this daily pattern was just another example of a life out of control.

"_**So when are you going to tell me about you and Nikita?" **_

Birkhoff's whispered question hung between them as he studied her closely, his eyes darkening with emotion at her silence. She held his gaze, shyly reaching over to touch his wrist. He glanced down at her hand and back, his expression softening a bit before he straightened and cleared his throat.

"Oooohkay…" Glancing up at the demo screen, he eased his arm from beneath her touch and pointed to the frame they'd been discussing. "So you see, the main protocols surrounding wire-tapping are tricky, but not entirely unnavigable," he stated, making her feel bereft of the closeness she'd just felt with him. It was always fleeting with him, so much so that sometimes she wondered if she'd imagined it.

Nikita was a sore spot for both of them, but she knew they had to deal with it. Straightening her shoulders, she pulled her gaze from the screen and eyed him meaningfully.

"It's a long story," she said just above a whisper, holding his gaze. "I'll tell you, after you tell me what happened between you two when she kidnapped you."

His brow furrowed a bit, then he pursed his lips. "Fair enough," he said hoarsely, glancing back at her. She watched his gaze sweep over her face and down to her breasts before shooting back to the screen. "When we have a free moment."

She nodded, heart pounding as she glanced up at the monitors above. "So none of these have already been hacked?" she asked, fascinated but distracted by his nearness. They sat alone together in Operations, Birkhoff having given the night guy a later shift so that he could tutor her in semi-private.

"Ah, not exactly," he mused, bringing up an alternate menu with the guidelines outlined in blue. "Voila."

She stared at the blueprints, leaning closer as he reached for his water bottle. He leaned back while she investigated the windows, scrolling over the highlighted sections to bring up the subroutines. Glancing down, she admired the firm muscles of his left thigh outlined by his indigo jeans and was tempted to reach out and rest her hand there. She heard his soft indrawn breath and turned her head just enough to see his expression. He'd frozen, eyes on her hand, which rested on her own leg only a few inches from his.

She heard the doors swoosh open and glanced over to see Amanda entering the room.

"Ah, there you are Alex," she said coolly, eyeing her and shifting her attention to him. "Birkhoff—giving Alex here a little extra credit?"

"Ah yeah," he said, clearing his throat as he started typing something unknown to either of them. Alex half turned toward her with a shy smile.

"You were looking for me?"

"Yes," she sighed, pulling her gaze from Birkhoff and alerting Alex. _She's attracted to him!_ "Before I leave for the night I wanted to give you this."

Alex stared down at the packet she'd pulled from her briefcase and held out. Taking it tentatively, she looked up. "What is it?"

"You're being promoted to field agent within three weeks," she stated with a cool smile, glancing at Birkhoff. He'd stopped typing and sat unmoving, his eyes apparently on his screen. "Congratulations, by the way. Read through it and prepare yourself mentally—you'll be supplied a furnished apartment and car along with a line of credit to cover any expenses."

"My own apartment?" she said, her face lighting up. Mentally forcing herself to keep her attention from Birkhoff, especially in Amanda's presence, she smiled brightly. "Does that mean I'll have more field ops?"

"Yes, but not at first," she sighed, leaning a hand on the partition. "You'll need to establish a presence in the community, you know, let people know who you are so they don't suspect. Right, Birkhoff?"

"Hummh?" he hummed, quickly typing something and glancing up from her to Alex. "Oh right, we can't have the neighbors thinking we're Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde…appearance is everything."

"Well I won't interrupt you any longer, but don't stay too late," she advised, waiting until he looked up again. "You do have an early class to teach tomorrow."

He nodded as Alex turned to look at him. Something was wrong, she could just feel it in the air.

"We're almost finished," he informed her. "Good night."

"Yes, good night," she sighed, nodding to Alex as she turned. "Oh, and Birkhoff—have a nice vacation."

They waited until they thought she was gone, then looked at each other.

"_That _was a bit creepy," he stated carefully, shaking his head. "But congratulations on making field agent. We'll miss you around here."

She smiled and leaned closer, studying his profile as he got back to work. "Maybe we'll be in the same neighborhood," she whispered.

"For you sake I hope not," he breathed, "I'm sure she'll see to it that you're in the decent part of town."

"So you'll miss me?" she dared, nudging his arm with hers. He smiled but said nothing.

They did a few more lesions and then he reached forward to shut down the project, leaning back into his chair and looking at her. "That's it—you're free to go, but beware of Dragon Lady lurking about," he whispered.

"I didn't know you were going on vacation," she said daintily. "That was nice of her to wish you a good vacation. Any plans?"

"Far away from here," he stated, nodding toward the door. "And I'd hate to see what her idea of a vacation is."

She tilted her head to study him a moment. "I think she likes you," she stated, laughing when he gasped in horror.

"Don't even say it—God!"

"No, there was definitely something there. She's interested in you—I could sense it, Daniel."

"Don't call me that and yeah—like a black widow spider just before the kill," he stated, shaking his head. "I comfort myself with the fact that she has the hots for Percy."

"No! Really? Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Nothing—" he said a little too quickly. "Not a word, understand?"

"Ok, but the Amanda I know likes intelligence."

"She likes power a whole lot more, sweetheart."

"Really? But I'm positive she's attracted to you, on some level."

"The only thing that she likes about me is the prospect of dissecting my brain on a cold slab in some local morgue or lab."

She hid a laugh behind her hand, shaking her head as he grimaced and got up, reaching for his messenger bag.

"Time to call it a night—I'll walk you home, if you show me where," he said, his eyes sparkling with teasing.

"That would be great, thanks," she answered, heading to the door. To her surprise he held it open for her until she preceded him out.

They walked down the corridor, and she found herself unable to look away. They walked close enough but he kept his gaze averted ahead, as if afraid to look at her. By the time they reached her door he waited until she'd unlocked it and held it open, her eyes inviting him in.

He cleared his throat and nodded. "See you in class."

Then he was gone, turning away without so much as a backward glance. She entered her room and stood leaning back against it, trying to digest everything that had happened that day. What she was left with was the prospect of moving out, maybe never to see him again. With that sobering thought, she knew she had to find a way to get him out. Nikita would help, she was sure of it.

Speaking of Nikita, she had yet to learn what it was that they shared of the past. Closing her eyes, she sighed his name and nevertheless dreamed her own dreams about him.

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt_


	7. Ch 7 The Vacation

_**Chapter 7 The Vacation**_

_**With a weary sigh Birkhoff checked his surroundings again,**_ thankful for the darkness cloaking him and filling him with grim determination. Shrugging off a shiver, he shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets and squinted into the distance, studying how the lights threw a pleasant golden glow upon the dark grass. Looking up at the chimney, he tried imagining the warmth of the fire inside and sniffed the air. The tang of wood smoke was strangely inviting, making him glad to be out of the city. As he glanced around at the forest that hid him and out across the clearing he realized how many years it had been since he'd been in these kinds of surroundings. The large garden lying along the south side of the house was still bearing pumpkins and winter squash, and he had to admit there was a certain charm to rural life. But he couldn't really imagine himself living like this, though it would sure beat living in his dungeon lab at Division or the noisy studio apartment he called home.

He heard the sound of the door banging open and stiffened as he surged back under cover, pressing against the trunk of the tree. He watched a dark silhouette move out onto the porch, his heart pounding as he watched him walk slowly down its length before stopping to look up at the sky. A tiny orange light glowed before smoke curled up from it, surprising Birkhoff at the one detail he'd forgotten.

_Dad smokes cigars… _He narrowed his gaze as anger and bitterness whirled within him, though he was tempted to step out into the moonlight and reveal himself. But it was too soon. He didn't know if it was safe yet, even though he'd been watching the house for three days now. He'd done his research back in his motel room, checking details and reassuring himself that he lived a pretty isolated life here. He had only a few friends where he worked as a chemist at the local agribusiness company. There seemed to be no women involved, not even his sister Angie, whom he'd found no trace of despite searching for her all these years.

Watching him turn and walk back into the house, he exhaled a tense breath and unfisted his hands. Pulling them from his pockets he lifted them to his lips and blew on them to warm them. Despite warm days it got quite cold at night here, and he shivered again. His head pounded from the lack of Red Bull, a severe addiction he'd still not quite freed himself of. Even coffee didn't do much to stave off the daily headaches. As he continued to stare at the house he marveled at the heavy weight of guilt that also still plagued him. Guilt and shame over his misspent youth, pain and bitterness from what they'd done to him. It was time to shake of this other addiction, the one that kept him from peace and any sense of happiness or fulfillment. He had to make it right, even though he'd forgiven them so many times he'd lost count. No, he needed a face to face resolution to settle it once and for all.

Gazing up at the star-strewn sky he felt exhausted, drained and lonely. Too far gone to even appreciate the beauty of the heavens he longed for love and companionship, realizing that he might not ever have them. A ghost of a memory flitted through his mind and he saw Alexandra's smile, tempting him. But he shoved it away, concentrating on the brilliance of the stars which covered the entire canopy of the sky. He was stalling, putting off the unknown and tempted to return to his old reality. But if he did, he knew he'd never really be free to live as he should.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he flexed his feet within his hiking boots, feeling the blood begin to warm his toes again. He knew he couldn't stay out here all night, and he had to get back. He'd already used up a work week traveling in such as way so that no one could trace him, his tracker device successfully blown from the virus he'd programmed into it. It had taken another two long days to do his research and he was ready to face his past. It was a simple plan—he'd just go to the door, knock and speak his peace. Then he'd start back and secure the few loose ends needed to complete his master plan. He'd been planning his escape from Division for years, blueprinting everything in his mind and setting things up to protect himself and the data he'd been managing so faithfully. He'd make a fast, clean break before they even knew he was gone. He just couldn't Percy to destroy everything they were supposed to be working for, which he had already begun to do. Percy led them with a greedy lust for power that no longer supported the ethics he'd been sworn to uphold. Division had to be brought down his way, not Nikita's—any other way just wouldn't be ethical.

Setting his jaw started toward the light, an inner voice laughing at him. _Yeah right, you—ethical? _

_**Alex sat in her car waiting and watching, staring up at his darkened windows and wondering where he was.**_ He'd already been gone a week and no one had seen nor heard from him. They'd all assumed he'd stay local, rest and enjoy whatever he seemed to like to do in his spare time, but there was no trace of him anywhere. Even Michael was clueless, but when she'd asked Nikita she'd only shrugged and said "That's Birkhoff."

"So this isn't unusual for him?" she'd questioned her, secretly jealous for their friendship.

"I don't think so, though admittedly he's rarely had any more time off than a couple of days—maybe he went on a cruise," she laughed.

"Very funny," she'd answered. "Though he did say he'd be going far away from Division."

Nikita had laughed cynically. "Can't say I blame him—why? You miss him?"

"Yeah," she'd sighed, "I really do."

Although she'd been very careful not to mope or act as if anything were out of the ordinary with him gone. But in his absence Division was incredibly dull and uninteresting, a lifeless cold existence. When she'd walked into computer class the first day of his vacation their spinster substitute teacher had been back, explaining she'd be filling in for him during his vacation. But there had been no jokes, no fearful jolts with him sticking his head or hand into their exercises, and no emotion whatsoever. It was a cold and sterile environment, and it seemed that the world had lost its energy and light. She wanted him back even though she knew it was selfish to even think that.

Without raising suspicions she'd resorted to hunting him down, and the effort kept her busy and less lonely. She passed by his apartment building as often as she could, looking for signs of him. But he never showed up at the internet café, the bookstore or even the mall though she doubted he'd go there much. Finding no trace of him, she was left with the distinct impression that he'd fallen off the face of the earth, and no one seemed to care. _No one but her._

"Ok I've been sitting her for two hours now," she sighed to herself, lifting her eyes from her watch and deciding she needed to get out. Opening her car door she got out, flipped her scarf behind one shoulder and stood facing his building. He was right, it wasn't the greatest neighborhood but it was still daylight. Crossing the street she headed toward it, suddenly remembering something he'd said the night she'd surprised him at his door.

_I thought you were the paper boy…_

Smiling to herself, she approached the building and glanced around. An old man was shuffling along the sidewalk, a teenage girl was walking her dog and a group of guys was playing basketball in the empty lot at the end of the block. Pulling out her cell phone she stopped, deciding against it yet again. What if someone traced her call? He'd said only Amanda and Percy had his number, which meant they might also have access to his call list. Flipping it open she did an internet search for the subscriptions number for the local newspaper. Jumping when someone whistled and called out a boy's name, she looked up and froze. There was her clue just a few yards away, clutching his paper bag. And he was staring at her.

"You lost, lady?" he cried out to her.

She shook her head, encouraged by the rapt expression on his face. "I came to see a friend, but it looks like he's not home."

He swallowed and smiled up at her, coming closer. "That's too bad—do I know him?"

Trying not to be obvious, she shrugged. "You live around here?"

"Yeah, over in the next block—who's your friend?"

She waved a hand and shut her phone, glancing around as if undecided. "I don't think you'd know him."

"Try me!" he said eagerly, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder. "I know a lot of people, especially if they get the paper."

She scrunched her nose, looking undecided. "Isn't telling me an invasion of privacy?"

"Hey, any guy _I _know that found out you were here looking for him and I didn't help would be upset."

"Really, why do you say that?"

He shrugged. "Cause you're pretty…it's a no-brainer."

She blushed but smiled. "What's your name?"

"Guy—what's yours?"

"Alex…maybe you'll know his name, which is a little different…"

"What is it?"

"Seymour," she smiled. "Seymour Bir—"

"Mr. Birkhoff?" he gaped, taking a step closer. "You're a friend of Mr. Birkhoff's? Now I _know _he'd be upset if you came to see him and he wasn't here…course he's not home that much."

"You know Seymour?" she gushed. "Really? That's great!"

He nodded. "He gets the paper, at least sometimes, but he keeps canceling it. Still, when I bug him about it he gives in and tries it again for whatever reason. Yeah, he's a great guy! He even gave me his old Game Boy without charging me anything, and he wouldn't take any money for it either!"

She nodded. "That sounds like my friend—then again, how many Seymours could there be?"

He chuckled as she glanced up at his dark windows with a sigh. "I sure wish I knew where he was."

"He didn't cancel his subscription so he's gotta be around. You have a date or something?" he asked quietly, gazing up at her.

"Not yet—I wanted to ask him what he thought about going somewhere…so you haven't seen him?"

He shook his head. "Not lately," he said somewhat dishearteningly. "He checks on me pretty often, so I'd know."

"Checks on you?"

"Yeah," he breathed, glancing away. "Just to see if I'm ok."

"That's nice…so you two are friends."

"Yeah, we are," he said, looking up at her. "I'm pretty busy myself, but if I see him I can tell him you came by."

"That would be great, thanks," she sighed. "Well, I've kept you long enough, Guy—thanks."

He nodded, scrunching up his face. "You his girlfriend?" he asked, looking eager.

She smiled brightly. "I'd like to be."

"Wow…he's nuts if he doesn't let you."

"Why sir, I'm flattered," she said, waving as she turned away. "Thanks for your help, and if you see him tell him Alex is looking for him."

He waved back, watching her closely. "Sure thing…"

_**He paused in the shadows, leaning against the railing of the porch. **_The sound of the television switched off, startling him. After a moment he stepped up onto the porch and slowly approached the door, heart pounding. Pursing his lips, he lifted a hand and knocked three times. Listening to the steps inside, he held his breath as they came close. Straightening, he dropped his hands to his sides and fisted them as the door opened. The face before him was considerably older but his gaze was keen as he stared up at him with a puzzled expression which slowly eased toward shock.

"Can…can I help you?" he said quietly, staring at his face in the light from inside.

He wet his lips and found his voice. "Hello, Dad."

He drew back, halting in shock as he squinted and studied his face. His gaze flitting down over him but he stood his ground without expression. But inside his stomach tied in knots as his heart beat frantically.

"No—it can't be!" he choked, shaking his head. "You've got the wrong house—"

"It's me Dad," he repeated. "It's Daniel…can we talk?"

There was a pause. "It can't be—you're…you're _dead_!"

He shook his head slowly. "Ah no, Dad—I'm not dead…I never _was_ dead."

"But—they showed me the photos! They told me what happened to you, about the beating. Then we had a funeral and _buried_ you!"

"It's all a lie, Dad. They made it up—"

"Your sister and I stood over your _grave_, and we've mourned you all these years!"

His eyes flooded with hurt and emotion, his throat choking up. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"My Daniel's dead, I tell you!" he cried.

Birkhoff shook his head. "It was a lie, Dad. Why don't you believe me?"

Recognition began to dawn in his father's expression, and anger. "Why would they lie to a father about such a thing, huh? Do you know what we _went_ through, your sister and I—?"

"What about me, Dad?" he choked, stepping closer as he retreated further back inside. "What about the lies _you_ told them about me? Do you know what _I _went through, having my own father _betray_ me?"

"Seymour—"

"_Don't_ call me that!" he choked, pointing his finger at him as he tried to control his anger. "Do you have any idea what I had to go through? I was _16 _when you turned me in to the authorities!"

"You were out of control, son! You didn't even care when I warned you they were watching you! You were turning into somebody I didn't even know anymore! And I couldn't allow you to dishonor your country that way!"

"Everything I did was because of what they did to you, don't you get it?" he choked. "Remember how you were always telling us how badly the government treated you and the other veterans? You were the one denouncing _them _for making you suffer and scrounge for everything! I did it for you—why can't you see that?"

"All I could see was my son turning into some kind of communist revolutionary! Yes you were still a kid, but you thought you knew everything, too smart for your own good!"

"You're the one who sent me to MIT when I was 14!" he cried. "All you wanted was to get rid of me—"

"That was a mistake, I know," he admitted, looking stricken. "But you were so brilliant, Daniel—how could I let you stay languishing in that little mediocre school? You were bored out of your mind!"

He shook his head, trying to collect himself. "Look Dad—I came here to let you know I'm still around. It was a challenge, trying to find you, and then it took me a long time to get up the nerve to see you. Trust me, I didn't want to come, but I've forced myself to change my thinking about the past."

His father's eyes filled with tears. "How did you find me anyway, or maybe I don't want to know!"

He shrugged. "I hacked into the witness protection program—so throw me in jail for trying to find my own family!"

"It's your fault we were placed in that program!"

He shuddered, forcing himself to stand against his angry gaze. "Look I came here to see you again, and to tell you that I realize now that you thought you were doing the right thing—"

"Of course I was—why else would I do what I did?"

He stared at him a moment. "Yeah well….anyway, now that we've shouted at each other maybe we can speak civilly to each other?"

His father looked suspicious. "Why are you really here, son?"

He swallowed hard, eyeing him intently. "I wanted to say I'm sorry," he admitted. "I was angry too, but I'm trying to put it behind me. And I wanted to tell you that I forgive you…I hoped that maybe you'd feel the same way."

"I might…but first I want to know where you've been all these years."

_**13 Years Before…**_

"Yes—I'm calling about the young man who was just brought into the system," Percy stated quietly, his eyes searching his surroundings as he gripped the receiver in one hand. "I've already explained to your secretary who I am and given her my clearance level, so maybe now you'll take me seriously."

Listening intently to the reply, he nodded. "That's right—I want a meeting with him immediately. I've already spoken to the warden…yes I realize he's a minor but this is a highly sensitive issue and time is of the utmost importance…I've been informed about his condition, and if _anything_ happens to him there _will _be consequences—severe consequences!"

He continued listening, eyeing Amanda who stood with her arms crossed. "Yes I'm already in town, just ten minutes away…good, I'll be leaving as soon as we hang up," he stated, slamming the phone down.

"Do you think they can be trusted to keep this quiet?" she wondered, watching him reach for his briefcase.

"It sounds like I've convinced him."

"What about the boy? Can he be trusted, with his background?"

He opened the door for her. "I'll know when I look him in the eye."

"I have a few questions for him which might help—"

"Oh no you don't," he warned, walking by her side as they headed toward the car. "You can wait outside."

She eyed him with obvious disapproval. "I need to evaluate his status, Percy."

"You can do that once we have him in the car."

"Sir, I must insist on accompanying you—"

"Amanda the boy barely escaped being gang raped!" he hissed as he started the car. "He's not going to want a woman listening in on the details."

"At first yes, but if he comes aboard my counseling will be less threatening _because_ I'm a woman," she stated. "Male victims of sexual assault are known to open up more to a female counselor."

"Alright, but give him time to breathe," he ordered. "You can start counseling him as soon as we're back but leave the introductions to me. We're about to meet our most valuable recruit of all, if everything we've been told is true. And we don't want to mess it up."

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt_


	8. Ch 8 The Return

_**Chapter 8 The Return**_

_**Alex walked down the corridor toward Operations trying to calm her excitement, though she felt like shouting for joy. **_Michael had just called to inform her that she'd be needed in Operations to help Birkhoff check systems on his first day back. Telling herself not to run, her heart soared at the prospect of seeing him again after two weeks of constantly thinking about him. As she approached the door she took a deep breath and quickly checked her outfit before shoving it open.

Michael turned from studying the monitors above, nodding to her as she headed toward Birkhoff, trying not to feast her eyes on him. He was wearing a blue plaid shirt over a dark blue tee as he squinted from behind his glasses, his left hand tapping nervously on the desk. She floated toward him but Michael beat her to it, leaning over him as he studied the video displayed on his monitor.

"That's it," Michael cried, pointing over his shoulder to the screen. "We _got _him!"

"You think?" Birkhoff commented dryly, bringing up the image and focusing it in zoom.

Michael straightened and eyed her as she came up on Birkhoff's left. "Now all we have to do is find the rest of them, which is why I recruited Alex here to help you— I'm due in training in ten."

"_Guten morgen_," Birkhoff droned as he glanced up at her with a wan smile before gazing back at his screen. "Welcome to Nervous Central, where we're already working on our ulcers before breakfast time."

She laughed and sat down on his left, powering up her monitor. "Hi, did you have a good vacation?"

"As good as can be expected," he sighed, looking no more rested than the last time she'd seen him. "Miss me?"

"Of course," she teased, glancing up at Michael as she sniffed the air.__"What's that I smell?"

"_Smell?_ "he choked in horror, glancing down her length before swerving his gaze back as he typed quickly. "I'll have you know I keep this place as sanitary as a clean lab."

Michael crossed his arms, clearly amused. "That would be his new _breath freshener_."

"Excuse me—my breath happens to be fresher than yours!" he shot back, distracted by the data scrolling before him as he typed.

"In your dreams," Michael sighed, raising his brows at her. "You don't seem _too_ unhappy about the prospect of working with the Wizard of Oz here."

Typing her password, she waited for entrance into the system. "Not at all," she stated, glancing at Birkhoff's profile. "It sure beats power boxing."

"Then we'll make it your regular schedule," he nodded, looking meaningfully at Birkhoff, "though I suspect you might change your mind, after a day or two."

"She stays," Birkhoff interjected, glancing up at her, then at him. "Seriously dude—I need her, and you've got nobody else _near_ as qualified for the job."

"Amanda might question that statement," Michael said just to bait him.

She glanced up at him, her typing not nearly as fast as Birkhoff's. "I really like this assignment, Michael. It's much more challenging than the others."

"She tested higher than the other recruits," Birkhoff added, looking at him over the rims of his glasses.

Michael shifted his gaze between them. "Alright Alex—I'll see what I can do to get you an internship—"

"You're mine, all mine!" Birkhoff declared with an evil laugh, twiddling his fingers over his keyboard as he glanced at her triumphantly. "You'll never escape my trap!"

"Then let's get to work," she smiled, turning back to her screen. She eyed the empty spot on his right where his drink usually stood. "What—no Red Bull or coffee?"

"After that last spill drinks are outlawed in Operations," Michael explained, patting Birkhoff's shoulder reassuringly. "But in order to keep Wonder Boy here happy, I've come up with a strategy which your sense of smell seems to have already detected."

"What?" she laughed, watching Birkhoff raise his hands in surrender.

"The robotification of human staff is already well in progress," he complained, pulling out a small yellow box to show her. Tipping his head back, he shook something like red drops onto his tongue.

She tried not to stare as its red food dye coating, nor at the way he licked his lips while staring at his screen. She sniffed again. "What _is_ that, atomic fireballs? They smell like cinnamon."

"Red Hots, my dear," he corrected while Michael hid a laugh with one hand. "Courtesy of our fearless leader here."

She bit back a laugh, glancing up at Michael. "Where on earth did you get them?"

"I have my sources," he said with a slight bow of his head. "It had my highest priority."

"Oh, he's having the vending machine stocked with them just for moi," Birkhoff sighed without looking up from his split screens. "Isn't that thoughtful?"

"And convenient," she agreed, studying his profile. "So you've taken up a new addiction."

"Believe me, you need all the addictions you can get to work in this place," he murmured, squinting at the monitor as his fingers stopped. "Oh uh—trouble."

Michael stiffened, glancing up at the larger screens. "What's up? Wait a minute—that guy wasn't there in the other shots!"

"How are things going?" Amanda greeted them, strolling into the command center and coming up behind Birkhoff. She placed a hand on the back of his chair and eyed the screen Michael studied. "Is this the feed from Sarajevo?"

"Yeah—you recognize that guy on the right?"

Alex noted how Birkhoff stiffened as Amanda leaned closer, his fingers jabbing his keyboard. She glanced up at Dragon Lady suspiciously.

"No one I recognize, why?" she answered, glancing down at Birkhoff.

"It's from Helsinki, and though we've gone over and over it we still can't figure out what went wrong."

"Really?" she breathed, almost pressing her leg against Birkhoff's arm.

"Here, take a seat," he offered, sliding away from her and getting up. Alex caught a whiff of his Red Hots breath as he stood closer to her chair.

Amanda smiled and took his chair, manipulating the screen to her liking as he shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pockets. Alex looked up and caught his eye, telegraphing him an understanding look.

"You seem a little nervous today, Seymour," Amanda breathed, her eyes on his monitor. "Maybe two weeks weren't enough of a vacation for you."

"Oh it was enough, trust me," he insisted, pointing out an identifier to Michael. "See that plate? It's not a local one, but it makes no sense."

Amanda got up and glanced at Alex. "Oh I'm sure you'll fix the problem, Birkhoff," she said with a smile, strolling back toward the door. "I have complete faith in you. Michael, I'll see you in the conference room," she sighed, going out the door.

Michael eyed Birkhoff with a troubled expression, satisfied that the door had closed. "She's onto you, man," he warned with a smile, following after her.

"Right-o," Birkhoff breathed, taking his chair and offering him a backhanded wave. "Back to work…"

Alex leaned toward him, hiding a smile. "I told you—she likes you," she whispered.

"Careful," he warned quietly, searching for the plate number "She might be hovering out there in the hall…and I'm not being paranoid."

"Warning heeded," she sighed, scrolling through the data he'd e-mailed her. "Good to have you back."

"Thanks, I think," he sighed, eyes on his monitor as he opened up another search engine.

"Oh and by the way," she added, glancing over at him, "I like the cinnamon-fire atmosphere in here."

His lips spread toward a smile as he spliced video images. "Thought you might…"

He looked especially attractive today, his hair freshly washed and his scraggly beard coming back in. Remembering the way Amanda had nearly brushed against his arm, she glanced down at his lap and felt herself blush. Shooting her eyes to his shirt pocket, she was suddenly inspired.

"Can I try one?" she whispered, smiling when he halted abruptly and glanced at her.

He swallowed, his expression guarded. "Try what?"

She moistened her lips, noting his eyes drop to that place. "The Red Hots."

He huffed and straightened, resuming his work. "Uh-uh."

"Pleeeease?"

"'Fraid not, sweetheart," he stated, "those are stocked specifically for yours truly—Michael's orders."

She rolled a little closer and leaned toward him, reaching toward his pocket. "But I love cinnamon!" she pouted.

He caught her wrist, eyes on his screen. "Stop, thief!"

She twisted in her chair, reaching under his arm with her other hand to snatch the box. He eyed her with a warning glance.

"Make me," she whispered as he let go and watched her pop one into her mouth. Her eyes widened. "Mmmm!" she moaned, feeling hot cinnamon begin to numb her tongue.

He stared at her lips and she froze. When he looked up his eyes blazed dark navy, imprisoning her with a look of unmistakable desire. She felt herself melt at the look in his eyes. Then he cleared his throat quietly and hunched over his keyboard again.

"Better get back to work," he said in a thick voice.

She slowly slid the box of Red Hots toward him and turned back to her own work, unable to say another word. The temperature in the room seemed to have risen ten degrees, but they both worked in silence until he leaned back, running his hands through his hair.

"This is impossible," he declared with a sigh, shaking his head.

"What is?" she breathed, looking up at him.

"Trying to find this double agent," he complained, gesturing toward the big screen. "Like finding a needle in a haystack. Any luck on your end?"

"Not so far," she admitted. "You look like you need a break."

"Yeah, one that lasts for about 10 years," he murmured. "How's things been here while I was gone?"

She shrugged. "Boring."

He chuckled, shoving back toward his workstation. "That's what I like to hear."

""Can you still tutor me?" she dared ask, watching him open more screens with determined intensity.

"Fraid not," he sighed.

Troubled, she half turned to face him after checking no one else was about. "Why not?"

"Because you don't need it."

"But I want to learn everything I can from you," she told him, watching him work feverishly.

"I can't," he sighed, shaking his head as he eyed his screen. "Percy's bringing in a specialist so I won't have any time."

"But you just got back—"

"Yeah and he's had all his projects on hold till now…this one's gonna be a bear, too. I can feel it."

"Is that why Michael assigned me here? Because you won't be?"

"Yup, that is the plan."

She resumed her work, hating the tension between them. "But I want to work with you," she said quietly, glancing over at him to see his guarded expression back in place. "I can't help you very well if I don't know a quarter of your knowledge," she tried again.

"Look it's too much for me, ok?" he said quietly, pursing his lips and avoiding her eyes. "I just can't."

She paused, studying his profile, loving the way his hair fell over his temple. She had all she could do not to reach over and smooth it back. "What's too much?" she whispered.

He continued working, the tip of his tongue peeking out to moisten his lips. "I think you know..."

She stared at his lips, hungry to taste the cinnamon on his tongue. "I staked out your building, looking for you," she whispered, watching him pause before he resumed typing. But he didn't look over at her.

"I was out of town."

She nodded, opening up another screen and studying the photos he'd sent. "Did Guy tell you?"

He pursed his lips again, nodding as he worked. "He did."

"He really admires you, you know," she said with a sigh. When he was silent, she followed his lead and got to work, keeping her eyes on her own screen. "So do I."

_**Running his hands down his face, he closed his eyes. **_"Dear God, give me strength," he sighed, still seeing the look in her eyes and feeling its effect. It had been a very, very long time since a woman had looked at him like that, if ever. And Alex was even more attractive and younger, which made her even more capable of hurting him. His first love had betrayed him like everyone else, and he had to admit he was highly vulnerable despite his cocoon of cynicism and devil may care attitude. He knew what it felt like to have a woman shatter his mind and heart, and it had hurt even worse than his father's betrayal. He just couldn't afford to risk getting close to anyone again, especially not now.

Why on earth did she focus on him, he wondered, when there were other guys closer to her age and type? And why did Michael assign her to work in Operations of all places? Or had that been Amanda's doing? If it was Michael then he should have sensed how much torture it would be for him to work with such a young, beautiful and intelligent girl at his side. Then again maybe Michael wasn't really his friend after all. Maybe he was kidding himself about that as well as about Alex. Maybe she was just toying with him, looking for something or someone to relieve her boredom. If that was the case then he'd just stay cool and aloof, wait out things and see how they developed.

_You're too late, Birkhoff…_

He opened his eyes, planting a hand on the stall door and shoving it out of his way. He stalked over toward the mirrors and stared at himself, knowing things had already gone way beyond what they should be. Regardless of her motivation he knew he was stuck. She tempted him beyond anything he'd experienced before. She was all he could think about on his way back, and she'd invaded his dreams too. Just flirting with her made his day, lifted his spirits and frustrated his body, and he couldn't seem to help himself. She certainly wasn't making it easy for him with those eyes of hers eating him up every chance she was around.

Shaking his head he bent to splash cold water on his face and hopefully wake up. "What I really need is a cold shower," he murmured, staring at himself as he patted his face dry with a rough paper towel.

"This is all your fault," he croaked, eyeing himself. "You should _know_ better—"

"What's all your fault?" Michael's voice jarred him.

Freezing, he eyed his reflection in the mirror, whirled around and strode past him toward the door.

"Nothin' man," he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he strode out into the hall. Glancing through the window into Operations, he saw that the chair Alex had occupied was empty. She must have left after he'd taken a bathroom break.

"Yes!" he hissed, shoving open the door and going back to his desk. "Now I can get some real work done."

Pulling out his chair, he sat down and reached for his mouse, freezing when he noticed the little triangle of white peeking out from beneath the pad. Glancing around, he saw that he was alone and pulled it out. Slipping his hands beneath the keyboard tray, he unfolded it and stared at the address and time written there.

_Alex, what are you doing? _he thought with a mixture of alarm and excitement. He recognized the date as recruits' night out, and pictured the last time when she'd come to his apartment. What had happened after that was partially the cause of his present torment, he realized with a sigh of regret.

Hearing voices, he stuffed the note into the side of his sneaker and pretended to tie his laces as Michael entered the room.

"You alright?" he called, coming to his side to stare down at him.

"Yeah sure!" he answered, glancing down at his keyboard as he got back to work. "Why?"

"Oh nothing, aside from the crazy little pantomime I just witnessed from you in the men's room."

"Yeah well those Red Hots are a poor substitute for Red Bull and expresso," he shot back.

Michael sat down, turning in Alex's chair to face him. "You know, that two week vacation didn't seem to do you much good aside from giving you time for your highlights to fade."

"Good one," he breathed, holding up his index finger. "One point for you, but with the anvil of Percy's disapproval hanging over me it wasn't possible."

Michael chuckled, leaning back. "Yeah I know what you mean… where'd you go anyway—Amsterdam?"

"Now that's not fair," he drawled, wanting to punch him. "I gave up the ladies thanks to the Michael anvil also hanging over my head."

"So this _is _about women," Michael smiled, "I knew it! What, no action on your vacation?"

"Don't even go there," he warned. "I was watched like a hawk and you know it."

Michael leaned closer, pressing his fingers together to make a pyramid. "You were off the radar most of the time and _you_ know it," he said quietly.

"So?" he glanced at him, interrupting his typing. "I like my privacy."

"Sure you do," he breathed, leaning back and eyeing him. "I have my suspicions, don't get me wrong."

"Yeah well keep them to yourself, and I'll do the same for you," he answered, glancing furtively at him. "Deal?"

He held his gaze a moment, then bowed his head in acquiescence. "Alright…just be careful, my friend."

"You too, man," he sighed, shaking his head. "Now let me get some work done, will you?"


	9. Ch 9 The Engineer

_**Chapter 9 The Engineer **_

_**NOTE: **__**Enjoy this chapter and an all new Birkhoff at 8 tonight on Nikita!**_

_**Alex stared at the banner waving at the top of the page he'd left for her to work on. **_With a tiny smile she studied the rainbow colors and traced the 3D outlines of his creation. "_Shadownet...taste the rainbow_," she read softly, glancing sideways at the other two programmers working in Operations today. Thankfully they were deeply engrossed in their own assignments, allowing her to study his home page carefully, longing for more clues about him. Lately Birkhoff occupied her mind more than anything else these days, but she realized that without him around she grew even more obsessed with him. He had unwittingly become the center of her universe, but she had no guilt about that fact. They both knew the rules and warnings not to become involved beyond an office type friendship, but she knew what her reality had become. If she couldn't get closer to him she had no idea how she'd survive here, at least not mentally and emotionally.

Thinking this was a start, she clicked the icon he'd highlighted and entered the shadowy world of his domain, more excited by this than any other problem or video game she'd been exposed to. At the portal was a gate, and moving her cursor inside it, she was swallowed by the labyrinthine graphics that quickly propelled her along the highway of Shadownet. Leaning closer in anticipation, she felt the power and life force of his network, further enhanced by sitting in his command chair. She glanced up at the overhead screens that displayed their current ops, feeling that Shadownet was a firmer reality than those. She could feel his excitement and the thrill of power he offered, understanding only part of what he must have felt when creating it. But she could not dwell on his past yet, and diverted her attention back to her assignment.

Holding down her key she sped along the tunneled highway deeper into his virtual world. With the end of the dark tunnel she saw a ring of fire and smiled. Clicking and scrolling, she passed through each successive portal until she entered the maze he'd prepared as her challenge. Gasping in awe, she drank in the mock-up blueprint of all levels of the Pentagon and realized this was a copy of the original he'd used to hack into their system. This is what had tempted him to hack into the real one and suffer the consequences of imprisonment, then later recruitment by Division. As she explored his virtual work she got her wish, already feeling closer to him as she rose to his challenge.

_You wanted to share this with me, _she realized, staring at the ghostly remnants of his original intrusion. She could see where he'd entered, what systems blinked for attention and a pathway for each choice that could be made. Gripping his mouse tighter she paused, trying to imagine him as a teenager. She was being given a glimpse of the real Birkhoff, which meant that he didn't think of her as an airhead. It also might be a sign that he really liked her after all, to have shared such a personal thing as his past. Her heart melted for him, and she longed to tell him how grateful she felt right now. Leaning back in his chair, she realized that he couldn't have given her a better gift than this part of himself.

"Alex—you having a problem with your assignment?" Archie called, startling her. She turned her head to see his concerned expression as he paused from his own work. "You look overwhelmed."

"I'm fine—just trying to overcome my fears about screwing something up," she said with a shaky smile.

"Kind of daunting, huh?" he commiserated, glancing back at his screen as he resumed typing. "The two of us can barely manage half his workload, huh Jeannie?"

"Unfortunately that's true," she answered without taking her eyes off her monitor. "Working here gives you a glimpse of a different Percy, who's even more of a slave driver here than anywhere else."

"Either he's a frustrated user or he really hates techies," Archie worried, shaking his head. "Poor Birkhoff takes most of the flack, but some of it spills off him and onto us, which you'll find out soon enough."

"Well what he left me to do is challenging enough to keep me guessing for years," she sighed, scrolling over the left-sided icons. "Not to mention cured of boredom."

"Well if you need any help just holler," he offered, getting back to work. "We've got a hard row to hoe until he's back."

"How long do you think he'll be gone?" she asked, keeping her eyes on Birkhoff's network.

"No way of telling," he said, shaking his head, "but he did say it's a top secret Percy Priority."

"I thought all of Percy's priorities were top secret," she stated, staring in awe at the complexity of the Pentagon security desk screen she'd just alighted upon.

"All he knew was that they're bringing in a computer engineer for him to work with," Jeannie sighed, "an odd duck type guy, according to the guard who escorted him down."

"Maybe that's a good sign," she replied, turning to glance at her, "getting someone to help him for a change."

"Let's hope so—we're already behind and he's only been gone a day," Archie smiled wanly. "Thank God Nikita's lying low lately."

She returned her eyes to Birkhoff's screen but smiled inwardly, knowing exactly where Nikita was.

_**Birkhoff made a face at the older man's deadpan expression, suspicious of the reason for his presence at Division. **_"Seriously, man—you've got to have a real name," he prompted, "or has it been so long you don't need one anymore?"

"You don't need to know it," he answered distractedly, eyes traveling over every details of Birkhoff's lab. "I'm here for your benefit, not mine," he murmured.

Birkhoff tilted his head, studying him with growing resentment. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged off a shiver, pulling his trench coat closer. "You don't need it this cold in here you know."

"I happen to like it this way," he shot back, eyeing the clock. They'd already suffered through this awkward encounter for a quarter of an hour. It wasn't like Percy to be late.

"You must have to wear gloves," he snorted, resuming his pacing and avoiding his scrutiny.

"The cold keeps me from nodding off," Birkhoff explained, "courtesy of the long hours I put in here."

He turned with an aloof expression on his face. "Which tells me you're the only one who can do the work."

"So you've come to _rescue_ me?" he wondered, raising his brows in a mock smile.

"That _is _the question," the engineer sighed, pulling off his coat and laying it on the arm of the couch. He shoved his hands onto his hips and glanced around. "Maybe together we can manage to convince Percy neither of us is expendable."

Cold dread sunk into Birkhoff's gut as he stared at him, jumping when he heard the pneumatic lock hiss off. He shifted his eyes toward the door as Percy walked in.

"Ah gentlemen," he greeted them with a smug smile, "I see you've had time to get to know each other a bit before we start."

"Can't say I didn't try," Birkhoff murmured, half turning to face him.

"Your assignment is to fix the data breach problem we're having with updating," he stated, eyeing the older man before tossing a hard drive to Birkhoff. "You were paid to design a perfect system which I might be able to actually use—"

"It's a s_uperbly_ flawless design," the engineer argued as Birkhoff clutched the drive and nervously studied their interaction. _This guy's not afraid of Percy_ he marveled, keeping a deadpan expression.

"but _maybe_ with Birkhoff's help you can fix it," he continued, nodding in his direction. "Birkhoff here is a signals expert, and should offer valuable insight into the problem."

"The problem is _not_ with my design but with your operatives!" the engineer challenged.

Percy nodded unflinchingly toward the drive. "Fix it and you can both go back to your lives, but not before," he warned, turning and walking away with calm efficiency.

They eyed each other as he strode from the lab and locked them in. Birkhoff turned to plug the thing in. "You heard him," he sighed, "no parole until we're done."

_**After two days without seeing any sign of Birkhoff, **_Alex knew she had to make a move. Nikita was out of the country and out of touch, but her last order was to find out who the visiting computer genius was and why he was here. She sensed it to be a matter of the utmost importance, and without no further orders she knew what she had to do. She'd finished her work in Operations, even helped Birkhoff's aides catch up, and with Amanda on leave and Percy holed up in his office she headed for the abandoned wing she'd brought Birkhoff through. Once she found the duct which led to his lab, she unbolted the grate and slid in, careful to move soundlessly through the air ducts.

She'd memorized the blueprints for this section, slowing down as she approached the juncture. Making a sharp right turn she belly slid along the aluminum surface and heard voices off in the distance. Careful to make no sound, she continued on, overhearing Birkhoff's voice as he tried explaining something about the connections. Light from his lab illuminated part of the duct so she stopped and peered out through the grate that covered the opening to his lab. To her amazement she could see them sitting at a long counter filled with screens and equipment, Birkhoff's right side clearly in view. Then she heard the other man speaking and concentrated on every detail.

"You know, too much work inhibits rationality and fogs the mind," the engineer said with what looked like a ghost of a smile as he studied Birkhoff's profile.

"Yeah, tell that to Percy," he sighed, shaking his head as he programmed something. After waiting to see if something would start up, he slumped back against his chair in obvious frustration.

"I will if he ever comes back," he answered while working a Rubik's cube between both hands. "You usually run the place all by yourself then."

Birkhoff huffed out a sigh. "Not usually this poorly," he admitted, rolling closer to his keyboard to punch in a command.

"Looks to me like your nerves are shot and you're all stressed out," the engineer sighed, setting aside his cube and steepling his fingertips together as he studied him at work.

"I've got a lot on my mind," Birkhoff murmured, frantically typing something else. "Lord Sauron up there is on one of his many rampages, expecting me to perform some sort of magic to make all his problems disappear."

"I can see that," he answered, turning toward Birkhoff to study him at work. "He told me some of your history, and almost boasted about you."

"Yeah I'll bet," Birkhoff replied, shaking his head as he squinted at the scrolling data.

"Shadow Walker," he sighed, smiling conspiratorially. "Caused quite a stir at the Pentagon back in the day, didn't you?"

Birkhoff didn't answer so he continued. "Percy says he couldn't believe his luck, grabbing you from the clutches of the federal penitentiary to recruit you to work here."

"Lucky me, though I have to admit it's a tad bit less intimidating here," he sighed, startling her as he slammed the desk with his hand. "Dammit!"

Alex watched him hang his head, but the engineer leaned back with a hopeful smile. "You know you can do it…it just takes a revelation sometimes."

"I need a whole lot more than that if I want to get out of the dungeon," he breathed, stretching back his head and shoulders.

Alex watched in fascination, drinking in the details of his history as well as the way he interacted with this man as a colleague. So he was Shadow Walker in person, or at least didn't deny it. She thought to the amazing site he'd left for her to explore, marveling at his genius. When she got the chance she vowed to do some research on him to find out more.

"Might I suggest a little diversion?" the engineer proposed as he rose from his chair and walked toward the couch.

Birkhoff turned his head, not moving until he saw him start to set up a video game. Then he too got up, stretched his back out and smiled. She held her breath at the transformation that came over his face when he smiled genuinely, loving him more each minute. But when he walked over to the opposite side of the room and reached for a small envelope, placing it in the microwave and starting it, she nearly laughed aloud. The sound of popping echoed in the cavernous room before she smelled its wondrous scent. Birkhoff bent to take out two water bottles from a small refrigerator and carry them over to the coffee table

_He doesn't even have a secret stash of Red Bull, _she thought distractedly, studying his every move. He had a lanky gait she thought was endearing, for his long legs ate up the distance wherever he went. He had a lean build except for broad shoulders, and was much stronger than he looked at first glance. She rested her chin on her arms as she watched him, remembering the way his arms felt around her when she'd hugged him that night in her room. It seemed like such a long time since then and she was encouraged by the fact that he hadn't pulled away or made a cynical remark about it. It was frustrating that they had to be so careful in relating to each other, and she often wondered what he would be like outside these walls.

He retrieved the popcorn, shook it into a large bowl and carried it over to the engineer. Then he flopped back onto the couch and took the controller he was handed, his whole demeanor much more relaxed already. The screen was turned away from her direction but she watched them as they played like two little boys, yelling at each other and each cheering when they won a round. She smiled, wishing she could sit between them and play, or even just watch. Birkhoff's couch was old but overstuffed and no doubt comfortable, and she suspected he slept there the nights he was missing from his quarters or his apartment.

"I won!" the engineer shouted while Birkhoff shot to his feet, a troubled expression on his face. He stared at the screen, then gazed suspiciously at his colleague.

"How on earth?" he protested. "You _beat_ me! It's not even possible!"

The engineer laughed as he glanced up at him. "I've been playing games like this since before you were in diapers!"

"Excuse me?" he shot back, looking offended. "I'm not as young as that—"

"You're very young," the engineer insisted, getting up to stretch. "Now—think about the problem with the black box! Think, before your frame of mind changes!"

Birkhoff frowned, averting his gaze. She watched him gesture and mumble a solution or two, prompted to continue.

"Think in a broader scope, Birkhoff!" he challenged like a professor.

Suddenly Birkhoff's face lit up as he straightened and raised a hand. "I've got it!" he shouted, rushing to his counter to programmed it, then waiting expectantly as the data began to sort and process. The engineer came to his side as they both studied the scrolling, then the blocks lined up like a slot machine and an alarm went off while they both shouted for joy.

"Yes!" Birkhoff hooted, clapping his hands together and turning to smile at his colleague. Alex smiled with inexpressible happiness, watching his face transform yet again. His expressions were all so different and so varied, she couldn't help just staring at him.

They were interrupted by the lock banging aside and froze, stiffening to attention as Percy entered, eyeing them without expression. He paused to study Birkhoff's screen as the engineer slowly sat down and Birkhoff shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pockets, both remaining silent.

"Well?" Percy said quietly, eyeing them both. "It looks like you've finally had a breakthrough."

"Indeed we have," the engineer stated, glancing up at Birkhoff with a small smile. "The kid just needed a diversion to clear his mind…then revelation came."

Percy studied Birkhoff's hesitant expression. "So you solved the problem?"

He nodded, eyeing the engineer with obvious respect. "Works like gangbusters."

Alex breathed a sigh of relief, preparing to make a silent exit. Watching Percy step behind the engineer to look over his shoulder at another screen, she listened to Birkhoff explain what they had done and the possible adjustments which needed to be made in the updating procedures.

Percy glanced down at the engineer. "So, you're satisfied?"

"Completely—you certainly have a treasure in this young man—"

Suddenly Percy gripped his neck and they heard a horrible cracking sound before he twisted off his chair and fell to the floor. Birkhoff gasped and jumped back, staring in disbelief at the odd angle of his still form. Percy stretched his arms and looked up, staring at Birkhoff in mild surprise.

Birkhoff looked up at Percy in horror. "O—o my God!" he gasped, glancing back down at his colleague, then back up at his boss. "O MY GOD!" he shouted, "what did you _do_?"

"I promoted you," Percy replied calmly, avoiding Birkhoff's horrified stare.

Alex covered her mouth with both hands, trying not to cry out as tears filled her eyes and spilled over.

"Go," Percy ordered, gesturing for Birkhoff to leave as he glanced down at his victim.

Birkhoff stood frozen to the spot, still unable to believe what he'd done. He stared at Percy in obvious fear.

Percy looked up at him and smiled. "Go home, take a few days off," he encouraged. "You've certainly earned them."

Under his hardening stare Birkhoff came to life again, shifting away from him with mute horror as he walked stiffly toward the door. Touching the furniture as if to keep his balance, he glanced down and saw her but kept moving, a blank expression on his face.

Heart pounding, she shimmied backward as fast and soundlessly as she could, reaching the juncture in the duct as the door locked behind Birkhoff. Turning around to go head first, she feared Percy would hear her and was careful not to go too fast. By the time she finally climbed from the ducts and fastened the grate over the entrance she breathed a sigh of relief and directed her attention back to Birkhoff. Her mind filled with pictures of him either running or reporting Percy, and as she headed down the corridor she worried about what he would do.

_**Horror gripped him and turned his stomach as he kept seeing the engineer's lifeless body on the floor.**_ He practically ran toward his quarters, seeing himself come to the same end should he make a mistake or do something Percy disapproved of. He knew one thing without a doubt—he had to get out now, and Percy's giving him leave offered the perfect opportunity. His throat choked up with grief for the man he'd just begun to get to know, regretting the way he'd treated the man at first.

Moving as if programmed he made his way quickly back to his quarters to gather what he needed. Shoving aside the door to his closet, he reached behind his clothing for the hidden latch and opened the compartment. Pulling out the backpack, he carried it to his bed and unzipped it to add a few remaining articles, making sure he had the pin Alex had given him. Carrying it over to his desk, he bent beneath it and retrieved the pouch he'd hidden toward the back, silently reviewing the route he must take.

Pausing at his door, he took one last look around and knew he didn't have much time. By now Percy would have called Roan to clean up the body, but without doubt he'd wait and accompany him on such a diabolical assignment. He thought of Roan and the trip they 'd taken, wondering how he could keep working with Percy. But then he shook himself mentally, forcing himself to concentrate on his own problem.

The switch he'd thrown would scramble the cameras in his wing only temporarily, giving him minutes to get out. Slipping from his room, he checked the hall as he locked the door and rushed off toward the abandoned wing Alex had shown him. Hating the thought of leaving her, he worried that she might be discovered before he caught himself. Alex was a professional now, he reminded himself, and had been so quiet he hadn't even known she was spying on them in the lab until he was on his way out.

Melting into the darkness of the abandoned corridor, he hurried along the wall toward the exit, trying to remember the time and address she'd given for meeting her at her new apartment. He forced himself to count the days he'd spent sequestered in his lab working round the clock, realizing that she would be expecting him tomorrow.

Rounding a corner he spied the ramp which led to the hatch and sped up, hitching the backpack higher over one shoulder. His heart pounded with fear and disgust, and inwardly he was still shaking at what Percy had done. Never would he have suspected him of such a senseless act of murder. He shoved the utility door aside and approached the hatch, hating the stale smell of the place where they'd once done medical experimentation. Shoving away the memories of his early counseling sessions with Amanda he concentrated on the present.

_That was a different Amanda, _he decided, pursing his lips in a grim frown. _And a different Percy._

"Daniel!"

Stopping in his tracks he froze, eyes searching the darkness surrounding him as his heart raced. There was only one person who knew that name.

He spotted her then, standing a few yards behind him. Her eyes were so wide and clear they gave away her position. Narrowing his gaze on her, he saw her lift a hand toward him, her lips parting. When no sound came out of her his own eyes filled with unshed tears as he shook his head in warning.

"Don't follow me," he croaked, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

She held his gaze, stepping toward him. "I saw what happened," she said, a tear slipping from one eye.

"I know," he choked, his eyes devouring her. "Don't ever do such a risky thing again, you hear me?"

She came up to him, tilting her head back to stare into his eyes. "I never imagined him to do anything so horrible!"

"Neither did I," he admitted, unable to look away. "You have to leave here, Alex—don't give him the opportunity to put you in the same position—"

"Were are you _going_?" she interrupted, gripping his arm.

He stiffened, telling himself to turn away and leave before he did something to get them both killed. "Better you don't know," he muttered, moving toward the door.

"Take me with you," she pleaded, following at his side.

"Don't be a fool Alex," he hissed, hoping to shock her into staying. He raised a hand in warning. "If they find you gone…they'll suspect—"

"What—that I left with you?"

He unlocked the hatch and pulled it open, grimacing at the wind that rushed into the room. "You can't be seen with me—understand?"

She gripped his sleeve. "Don't make me stay here without you!"

"I'll be in touch," he nodded, changing his mind suddenly. "I got your note—we'll talk then!"

"Wait!" she hissed, throwing her arms around him. "I don't want you to go—I need you!"

He dropped his backpack and gripped her close, resting his chin atop her head. Inwardly shaken, he felt panic and horror trying to swallow him up. "I have to.

"They'll hunt you down," she cried against his neck, pulling back to look up at him. "Let me take you to Nikita! We can fight them together!"

He shut his eyes, sorely tempted to give in to her. "Don't talk crazy—"

"Please!" she panted, eyes filled with tears. "I can't lose you!'

Unable to stand it any longer he reached up, cupping her face between his hands as he bent his head and kissed her hard. All the loneliness, hunger and frustration overcame him. He felt helpless to resist her and when she wrapped her arms around his back he nibbled her lips with passionate kisses, tasting her sweetness and drunk with pleasure. She moaned softly, pressing into him and making him feel close to losing control. He bent to kiss her in desperation, afraid he'd never see her again. She gripped him like a mast in a storm, claiming him as her own with each kiss returned. His head swam with emotion as he tried to seal as many details as he could into his memory.

She caressed his chest with both hands, climbing higher in his arms. Then he felt her hand comb into his hair like a healing touch. Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers and tried to catch his breath.

"Alex," he panted, holding her tight, "you have no _idea_ how much I want you right now."

She pulled his lips back to hers, kissing him ardently before turning to whisper into his ear. "I want you more," she sighed, making him shiver with desire.

"My God," he croaked, turning her back for a deeply pleasurable kiss before he straightened. Staring into her eyes, seeing her desire he shook his head in amazement. "How could you possibly want me? I'm too old for you, not to mention finished, kaput, good as dead—"

"Because I love you," she breathed, smoothing her hands down his chest and driving him crazy. He caught them in his before they went lower, staring at her in disbelief.

"What did you say?"

She smiled, reaching up to gently run her fingertips across his lower lip. "You heard me, Birkhoff."

He studied her expression, bent to kiss her one more time. Then he closed his eyes, leaning his head back. "The crazy thing is I love you too—and I know better."

She lifted her chin. "Course you do—now kiss me again instead of arguing with the rationality of it."

He pulled her closer. "God, you're such a beautiful innocent."

"Then so are you," she complained, devouring him with her eyes. "I'm waiting, Birkhoff."

"As I said before, I'm not responsible when you look at me like that."

Bending her back, he turned her over his left arm and kissed her slowly and deliberately, taking both their breaths before he righted her, steadying her with his arms.

"Thank you…" she sighed, closing her eyes.

He hugged her close, whispering against her hair. "You make me forget what we both just witnessed."

"That's the plan," she sighed, pulling back to look at him. "Promise me you'll show up for your appointment."

He bent and gently kissed her lips before stepping back. "I'd have to be out of my mind not to—now let me go Princess. I don't want anyone suspecting you came this way, or even saw me."

She nodded as he bent to pick up his backpack. Slinging it over his shoulder, he touched her cheek and kissed her once on the lips before turning and stepping out onto the landing. Gazing up the ladder which led to the surface, he glanced back and then began to climb.

Once he reached the top he looked back, relieved to see no sign of her. Getting to his feet, he sprinted through the darkness across the field and into the trees, hoping no one would shoot in the back.

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt_


	10. Ch 10 Whipping Boy

_**Chapter 10 Whipping Boy**_

_**Amanda slowed her steps as she saw Percy and Roan standing in the deserted corridor**_. At her approach they both looked up, their expressions somber. Clasping her hands before her she continued toward them, noting the stiff nod with which Percy dismissed the cleaner.

"Thanks, Roan," he called after him as he strode off down the opposite corridor. Directing his gaze toward her, he nodded as she stopped before him. "I need to speak with you in private."

"Of course," she replied, following him as he turned and turned back toward his office. When he said nothing, she stated the reason she'd come looking for him. "Did the engineer and Birkhoff manage to solve the problem yet?"

"They did," he replied, glancing at her as they came to his suite. "It took some time but they finally got the job done."

"So you're satisfied? We can expect full operation from now on?"

"Hopefully," he sighed, pressing the thumb pad to unlock the door. She strode past him into the office as he locked it behind them, pasting a smile upon her face before turning to face him.

"Good," she said calmly. "He'll need some rest after being holed up for so long."

Percy moved behind his desk and punched the power button on his computer. "I gave him a few days off..."

Surprised, she watched him sit down, his eyes on the monitor. "That's very considerate of you," she stated, wondering why he'd been so generous to Birkhoff.

"Yes I know," he said distractedly, punching something into his computer. "Oh and I killed the engineer."

Stunned, she stared at him in disbelief. When she didn't comment he looked up.

"What, no questions or objections?" he said with a faint smile, returning his gaze to his monitor. "Birkhoff certainly voiced his…"

Her heart thumped wildly as she tried to envision the scene._ Why did he kill someone who helped solve the problem with the black boxes? And why let Birkhoff go home, knowing he'd witnessed it?_

"Is that why I just saw Roan?" she managed to say.

"Indeed it is," he sighed, typing something that was obviously more important. "Speaking of Birkhoff I may need your help managing him—he did look a little upset."

Reeling inwardly, she wondered how they were going to explain that to Oversight. "Was that really necessary?" she dared ask.

"I'm afraid so…I had to prove an important point, and time was of the essence."

Forcing herself to stand her ground, she lifted her chin. "I imagine Birkhoff _was_ troubled by your decision, which he will no doubt internalize and project onto his own status."

He looked up. "Surely you realize that power, once attained, must be cultivated and wielded in order to be held."

"Holding both men against their will would surely reinforce their perception of your power, Percy."

"Amanda when you're dealing with high IQ personalities a dose of fear is necessary to offset the impression that they're in control," he explained, eyeing his screen yet again. "And I did compliment him, by the way…I told him to go and be brilliant, which I've no doubt he will."

"It's more likely that in the ensuing emotional trauma he'll suffer you may have to deal with compliance problems—"

"What _is_ it about Birkhoff that worries you so much?" he demanded, eyeing her intently. "You're always nervous about his mental state, when the man's obviously got an iron will and seems to withstand the pressure of running Division under my command! I think you need to relax—he's a lot stronger than you think!"

She stared back, crossing her arms. "The general _consensus_ is that power is established more firmly through much more subtle and nonviolent ways than through fear and intimidation. Most of the literature agrees."

He leaned back in his chair, studying her expression. "Maybe you're right, but it's too late now. He's either back in his quarters or halfway to his apartment by now. Would you like to check up on him?"

"That won't be necessary," she sighed though he picked up the phone and called security. She waited while he asked for and got his update before hanging up. "Their logs show him briefly entering his quarters, then driving off in the direction of his apartment."

"So he'll be home," she replied, straightening her shoulders. "I'd like to monitor him, if you don't mind."

"There's no need," he sighed. "Birkhoff will typically lick his wounds, work out in his gym and then play a few hours of video games before retiring."

"I doubt he'll sleep after what he's been through," she stated.

"Oh, and why is that?"

"Well with his IQ, personality and position here he's suffered social isolation, but by sequestering him with a like-minded genius whom you eventually eliminated before his eyes you've sent him the message that he could very well suffer the same fate. I doubt he'll sleep well, which will only compounds the problem of overworking and over-stressing him."

"If he can't handle it then we'll just find someone better to replace him, Amanda," he said coolly, transferring his attention back to his monitor. "But while we're on the subject, why don't we actually monitor his activities and see who's right about him, alright?"

She sighed and sat down, prepared for a long night. "Fine…but I don't think I'm being overly concerned about his mental state."

"We'll see, Amanda. But I do appreciate your efforts in trying to protect our assets," he stated, eyeing her meaningfully. "Let's see what we can dig up on him and discuss just how well he's managing here."

_**Alex checked her watch again, glancing down into the alley below but seeing no one. **_Dropping the curtain back in place, she went to check her phone again.

"Where is he?" she whispered, tempted to call him but deciding against it. "No, it's too risky…but he said he'd be here."

With all the recruits out on the town she knew Division would be busy trying to keep track of all them, so when it lit up with Michael's number she was even more concerned. Pressing the green key she heard him yell out her name.

"Alex, it's Michael," he cried above the loud background music. "I'm at Club 42 playing chaperone and  
>I need your help."<p>

"What's up?" she replied, hoping she didn't sound too impatient.

"I need you to check the apartment across the way," he answered, sounding a bit distracted. "There's a party going on which I'm sure you already know about."

"Yeah, at Nathan's."

"I have the feeling that some of our newbies might have crashed it—can you go see if you recognize anyone? I'm missing two—Sarah and Randy."

"Ok but give me a minute—I'm soaking in bubbles," she lied.

"What?"

"I'm taking a bath!'

"Oh—sorry. But there's no hurry—they still have a couple of hours before curfew."

"Yeah, look I know how it is…I'll call you back if I see them."

"Fine, otherwise don't bother to call back—I need to keep the line free in case they're spotted by the other agents."

"Sure thing," she stated, glancing out her window again for any sign of Birkhoff. "Night."

He hung up without answering, but now she had to leave and didn't want to miss Birkhoff. Moving to the peephole to look out into the hall she cringed at the loud music coming from Nathan's apartment, seeing the door open as a few people left. Waiting until she could account for whatever time she would have needed to get out of her supposed bubble bath and get dressed, she wrote a note for him in case he arrived while she was out.

"At least it'll take my mind off waiting," she sighed, inserting the note into an envelope and looking for the tape. She'd been careful to write it to no one in particular in case anyone else saw it and read it instead. Then she taped it to the outside of her door and stepped out, preparing herself to crash the party and hopefully avoid Nathan.

_**Percy eyed the security video, comparing it to the logs they'd faxed up to him. **_Gritting his teeth, he pulled up the repair menu for the cameras and counted how many were out or scrambled. Then he rose from his desk and closed the programs. "I found something off," he announced as Amanda stood, smoothing her dress down her legs. He reached for his coat and headed for the door. "We're going to check this out in person."

"What's wrong?" she wondered, following him out of his office. "Is Birkhoff alright?"

"I think our little genius has been playing tricks on us," he predicted. "There are a lot of inconsistencies with the logs and camera malfunctions surrounding his activities."

"Are you sure? We have had problems with Repair—"

"It's not just that—his tracking device seems to have gone off ever since he left for vacation," he said grimly, marching down the hall toward the garage as she followed.

"Why didn't Security report that before?"

"I have no idea," he breathed, "but we're about to find out. And if he's sneaking around behind our backs I'll just have to teach him another lesion…one he won't easily forget."

_**Birkhoff gritted his teeth, twisting his hands as he pulled against the straps binding his wrists.**_ Every time he tried turning around to see what they were doing he got muscle spasms in his neck. Now they'd turned up the volume of his DVD player, blasting the bluesy jazz of his _Sneakers _movie at party volume.

"Look, I can explain," he shouted, rocking the chair as he tried to turn toward them. "All of this is a huge misunderstanding—"

An eerie whistle interrupted him a fraction of a second before something hissed past his ear and struck the table. He jumped in surprise, staring at the leather whip that slid backward off the surface.

"Don't treat me like I'm an imbecile!" Percy shouted over the music. "You've got one too many cameras out in your profile, Seymour, not to mention the fact that your tracking device has gone haywire!"

"What? You're blaming me for that?" he yelled back, struggling against the straps.

"Percy really—it probably has nothing to do with him," Amanda defended, coming to his side as she eyeing him coolly. "We've known for some time how poorly the security contractors have behaved, and Birkhoff's far above trifling with those applications, aren't you?"

"Dinosaurs," he agreed, eyeing her pleadingly as her gaze darkened in sympathy.

_I'm afraid I can't help you this time… _her expression seemed to say.

"Don't underestimate our little genius here," Percy warned in a voice tight with rage. "He'll do anything to make me look like a fool, thinking he's above obeying my orders!"

"Percy, you can imagine what kind of wiring they put in this building," he added, trying to turn his head to look him in the eye. "Besides that, the cameras in the parking garage are always corroded from the rain and humidity—"

"You were angry about what happened with the engineer," he interrupted, "but I did it for your own good, Birkhoff! You should have realized that his death was for your benefit, and meant to teach you a lesson—"

"Look I know he was a little feisty, but he wasn't used to working as a team—" Birkhoff began before the crack of the whip hit the table, this time grazing his arm and drawing blood. Shaking with fear he fought for the right words to defuse him. "I really think he could have helped us with another problem—"

"You already knew more than he ever did!" Percy argued. "Besides that my decisions concerning staff are none of _your _concern—"

"Look, I'm sorry if you think I was undermin—"

The whistle of the whip announced another strike, taking his breath as it cut into his right shoulder. He froze as pain shot through his skin and muscles, singing along his nerves and stunning him with its element of surprise.

"_I _was speaking!" Percy roared at closer range as the whip cut across his upper back. He gasped in pain, shutting his eyes and willing himself to keep from crying out. Amanda called Percy's name, but to no avail.

"I _told_ you that you needed to learn to obey me," he shouted, hitting him in the back of the neck. "Didn't I?"

When he refused to answer he was hit three more times, each more painful that the previous. He fought to breathe, so severe was the pain, and hung his head. He could feel blood trickling down his back, its slow progress seeping into the waistband of his jeans. Leaning forward, he tried pulling his wrists free despite the increase in pain any movement caused. Clenching his teeth he suffered more strikes until his forehead hit the edge of the table as he fought to breathe. Pain throttled him, burning his skin as he prayed they'd leave him alone.

Another strike hit his upper back and he saw stars. He was vaguely aware of the sound of Percy's heels clicking toward him as he tried to swallow and catch his breath. Then Percy's breath whispered into his left ear, making him cringe in horror and disgust.

"Hopefully this time you'll learn," he warned softly.

Birkhoff had all he could do not to turn his head and spit in his face. Grateful for the hatred boiling up inside him he tried to control himself and play dead, thinking Percy would grow bored and leave.

"I really wish it didn't have to be this way, Seymour," he sighed, leaning a hand on the table next to his temple. "Though Amanda objects to my methods, I tend to think of them as productive, don't you?"

He pulled open his eyes and stared groggily at that hand, willing it to leave him alone. He was vaguely aware of someone pounding on his door and voices yelling as if from a great distance. When the hand lifted he felt relief, then the world somersaulted and everything went dark.

_**Alex saw the flash of an incoming text message on her phone and pulled it out from peeking over the side pocket of her purse.**_ Glancing up, she saw no sign of Nathan or the two recruits Michael had sent her to look for. The other partygoers were involved with each other and she headed for the door, studying the number and knowing it wasn't Nikita. She remembered Birkhoff writing his cell number on a sheet of paper which she'd tucked inside her wallet and decided the call was too similar to ignore. As she crossed the hall back to her own apartment she opened the message, her eyes widening with alarm.

"Dear God!" she hissed, turning from her door and rushing toward the stairs. Her heart pounded with fear as she fled down the staircase and burst through the garage door to get to her car.

"Help me get to him without being seen," she prayed, climbing in and turning the key. Backing up as fast as she could, she shifted into drive and raced toward the exit, already mapping the quickest route in her mind. It would take about 15 minutes to get to him. Checking the empty streets she turned and headed toward his neighborhood. "Please, don't let me be too late..."

_**Amanda shivered, pulling her fur coat tighter as she walked close to Percy's side. **_"Do you think anyone saw us?" she worried, glancing back at the dilapidated building.

"Not a chance," he soothed, glancing down at her. "Those kinds of neighbors bang out their protests but rarely show their faces…incidentally that was a brilliant idea, playing his DVD to cover up any noise."

He unlocked the door and she climbed in, looking up at him. "Someone might have seen us sneak out the back," she added as he shut the door.

Shaking his head he rounded the hood and climbed in. Starting the engine, he lifted his phone and pressed a speed dial, waiting until it picked up.

"Roan, I have another job for you—an important one. Get over to Birkhoff's apartment with your medical bag…I had to teach him a lesson and I'm afraid he'll need some tending to…yes, that's the right address…do whatever you deem necessary to get him back to work in two days…and use the side alley so no one sees you. Report back to me when you're back."

Amanda watched him covertly, trying to hide her disgust. The sight of Birkhoff's bloodied back still made her feel queasy, and she wondered how he'd react when Roan showed up at his place.

"He'll think he's dead once he sees Roan leaning over him," she stated in a bored tone.

Percy laughed, shaking his head as he drove from the alley. "That's one expression I'd like to see," he admitted. "Assuming he's even conscious."

"Really Percy, who do you bother whipping him when you're only going to order someone to go patch him up? There are better ways to send a message, without shedding any blood."

"I'm not interested in the psychological aspects of torture, like you are," he stated, glancing at her. "You know that…no, I much prefer a more animalistic approach."

"But that way you leave evidence behind," she smiled, leaning back into the comfortable seat. "Which is certainly more risky."

"Roan will take care of any evidence," he sighed, turning onto the boulevard. "Care to join me for a nightcap?"

She glanced at his profile. "I think I'll take a raincheck…it's been a long night," she sighed.

"It has, but hopefully a productive one."

_**He came to slowly, the burning pain in his back and shoulders dulled by an overall numb feeling in his upper body. **_Groaning softly he shifted until a hand press down on the base of his neck.

"Lie still," a rough voice commanded.

Too groggy and weak to fight it, he realized that he was lying face down upon something soft and white. Glancing sideways he focused on the black bag standing open at his side. Flexing his wrists he realized they were unbound, yet he couldn't seem to move his arms. He shivered, trying to unglue his tongue from the roof of his mouth. His throat was parched and burned from thirst.

"What happen—"

"Don't talk and stay still!" the voice ordered. He tried turning his head to see who it was, but only caught a glimpse of a long black coat over a bent knee. "I need to finish your back..."

Something poked between his shoulder blades, which he sensed more than felt. After a moment his mind finally registered that voice. _The cleaner! What was he doing here?_

"Roan!" he croaked, lifting his head before it was forced back down.

"Hold it—I'm still stitching you up!" he hissed.

Too tired to fight him, he lay flat again as alarm shot through him. _Stitches? _"Where's Percy?

"Long gone, thank God," Roan mumbled in a frustrated tone. "Look, you need a plastic surgeon but I'm doing my best for now," he complained, tossing a mound of bloodied gauze onto the floor.

Birkhoff stared at it, his condition finally registering. "How bad?" he groaned.

"Bad enough," he said tightly, dabbing something cold along the back of his neck. "He call and ordered me to patch you up so you can report back to work in two days, the bastard."

He struggled to accept the fact that Roan was working on him, a task he usually performed on the deceased. "That's our boss," he sighed, beginning to feel pain begin to creep back over him.

"I remember overhearing you joke about Michael being teacher's pet and you being the whipping boy," said gruffly, throwing down more bloodied gauze. "Never would I have imagined it was the truth."

"He only did it once before," he moaned, closing his eyes.

"Yeah well somebody ought to give him some of his own medicine," Roan stated, bending down to his level. "You're starting to feel more pain, aren't you? Time for an IV."

He clenched his teeth, grabbing handfuls of the blanket as he began to feel burning and the iron like grip of pain. "Yeah," he grunted, feeling the prick of a needle on top of his left hand. Waiting for it like an addict for his next shot, he endured the pinch of the IV without caring what came through it.

"This is a combination of antibiotics, painkillers and electrolytes to get you started," he stated. "You'll need to finish the antibiotics orally to prevent infection— you're highly susceptible at this point so make sure you take them all."

"Thanks, Doc," he sighed, glancing dazedly up at him. "You a real doctor?"

"No, just an Army medic," he answered, lifting the plastic bag over his head and attaching it somewhere.

" …good enough for me," he moaned, closing his eyes.

"Give me a few more minutes, then I'll have to sit you up to dress the wounds. Now hold very still—one last deep laceration to go."

He buried his nose in the blanket, trying to ignore the sick sensation of his back being sewn together and waiting for the local to take effect. He worried about Alex waiting for him, praying that she didn't come looking for him. He plan to make a quick clean escape was no longer viable, yet he couldn't seem to formulate another one to replace it.

"You know, I tried to warn you through Michael," Roan said as he worked. "Nobody ever believes me."

"Sorry," he breathed, too tired to say more.

"I texted Alex a few minutes ago to come get you," he stated, snipping something near his right shoulder. "She'll have to hide you until I can get out from under Percy's radar—"

"What—Alex?" he choked, turning his head before Roan stopped him. "Don't want her involved—"

"Hang on—look, you're going to need someone to change your dressings, and I suggest you both get far away from here and lie low for a while… I'm leaving in a few days myself, unbeknownst to Division—keep that to yourself ok?"

"Ok," he agreed, listening to the sounds of instruments being thrown down before Roan dug into his bag again. "Why help me or her, anyway?"

Roan chuckled, dropping ripped gauze packages onto the floor. "Let's just say I believe in fairy tales…  
>and I still have a wife out there in the world who thinks I'm dead. The plan is to show her otherwise."<p>

"I highly recommend it," he sighed, feeling inordinately sleepy but less uncomfortable. "Just did the same thing with my Dad…"

"I'll bet he was shocked," Roan sighed, pressing something down across his upper back. "Family's important…now let's get you up so we can finish."

Birkhoff felt his hands slip beneath his shoulders and groaned, managing somehow to lift himself enough for Roan to help him into a sitting position. He shivered and found he couldn't keep his head up. Then he felt hands pass under his arms and cross.

"Hold this," he was ordered as his hand was guided to the center of his chest. A roll of gauze slid beneath his armpits and wound around his shoulders, then across his chest again two more times.

"Unbelievable," Roan sighed, his voice slightly tremulous.

"What'd you give me?" Birkhoff mumbled, feeling more and more drowsy. "I can't keep my eyes open."

"You'll thank me one day," he answered, pressing something over the back of his left shoulder. "There—you're wearing two layers of gauze pads beneath these but it'll still bleed through for a few days. I'll tell Alex what to do since you're pretty out of it."

"Thans…" he sighed before Roan was lifting him, trying to get him to his feet. Once he stood he swayed and was caught. A chair scraped the floor and he was urged to sit. He hung his head and complied as a knock sounded on the door. Roan went toward the door as he turned his head to watch him peer out the peephole.

Curling his arm around his stomach, he wanted to hide from Alex's sight. Then he heard her voice as if coming from down a long tunnel.

"Oh God!" she cried, and then she was kneeling at his side. Her fragrance enveloped him, stirring his senses and making him more alert. He opened his eyes and stared sleepily into her worried gaze. She touched his face with a cool palm as tears filled her eyes. "Who _did _this to you?" she demanded.

"Percy," Roan answered for him before walking away. "I'll get some of his clothes…"

"Are you in a lot of pain?" she soothed, squatting at his side as he hung his head in exhaustion. "I'm going to take care of you once we get you someplace safe. Then we'll pay back that monster—"

"No," he argued, catching her hand as he forced his eyes open. "Don't go anywhere near him…"

She pursed her lips but didn't argue, and then Roan returned with a pillowcase stuffed with clothing. They buttoned an old flannel shirt around him without bothering with the sleeves, then draped a light blanket over his back. He stood swaying dizzily until they guided him toward the door.

"My pack," he croaked, watching Roan snag it from the floor where he'd left it before turning to Alex.

"We need to hurry," he warned, opening the door and moving him out into the back hall. Close to passing out, he missed a step on the stairs and then Roan bent and lifted him off his feet. He grabbed onto his arm, wincing in pain as a wave of darkness washed over him. Sighing in defeat, he let his eyes close and let go.

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt_


	11. Ch 11 The Lair

_**Chapter 11 The Lair**_

_**Alex sighed tiredly and stared at his torn flesh, still clutching the bloodied gauze in one hand.**_ The skin over his well muscled back and shoulders was darkly bruised, raised and inflamed from Percy's whip. Studying his profile she cupped the nozzle of the bottle and sprayed his back with antibacterial solution, thankful for his sake that he was still out. She glanced up at the second IV Roan had left for him, now almost drained after nearly a day and a half.

With a tired she touched the back of his head gently, her heart going out to him. They'd laid him on his stomach to keep any pressure off his wounds, and it occurred to her that she had no idea how he usually slept, stomach, side or back. Listening to the slow rhythm of his breathing she smiled, hoping someday to find out, if they were even given the chance.

"What do I really know about you?" she whispered to him, gently stroking his hair. It was growing out from his upscale cut Amanda had ordered, gradually returning to its natural color. She remembered the strength of his arms and the power of his kisses, her eyes filling with tears. Swiping at her eyes, she tensed at the sound of footsteps in the stairwell and turned her head.

Nikita entered the room, her eyes shooting from her to Birkhoff as she stopped abruptly. Something twisted in her expression before she rushed to his side.

"Dear God," she gasped, staring down at his back before reaching out to gently touch his arm. She looked up, obviously upset. "Percy did this to him."

She nodded, her eyes filling again. "I'm sorry…I didn't know where else to bring him."

Nikita leaned over him, gently touching his brow. "Of course you should bring him here," she insisted, shaking her head. "He's burning up…who stitched him?"

"Roan," she half laughed, holding Nikita's puzzled smile. "Can you imagine?"

"That is a stretch," she admitted, glancing up at the drip. "IV's almost out—you have another one?"

"That's the last one, but Roan gave me oral meds for him," she said, staring back down at Birkhoff's face. "He's so pale…"

"I wonder what happened to make Percy fly off the handle like this?"

Alex shrugged. "Roan said it was some kind of lesson."

"I'd like to teach _him _a lesson," she vowed, glancing around. "You bring any of his things?"

"Yeah, two bags—one that Birkhoff insisted we bring."

Nikita raised her brows, a tiny smile playing around her lips as she glanced back at him. "Wonder what's in there?"

"I don't think we should look, not until he's awake," she insisted, reaching for the dozen packages of gauze pads she needed to apply. "By the way, welcome back—wanna help me finish?"

"Sure," Nikita breathed, taking one of the gauze packs and ripping it open. "You use an antibiotic?"

"Yeah," she nodded, tears flooding her eyes as she gently laid the gauze square on the worst spot. "I can't seem to control myself, looking at his back."

"That's because you love him," Nikita said soberly, glancing up at her. "And because you're exhausted—I've got a roll away we can set up next to him, and I'll sleep in the recliner."

"I didn't even look around," Alex admitted. "I was afraid to leave him."

Nikita placed another pad over his shoulder. "He'll be ok, you'll see. He's tougher than either of us thinks. Look—there's the scar from the time he was shout through the shoulder and he survived that."

Alex peered at it closely. "Another thing I didn't notice," she sighed.

Nikita smiled as she worked. "You'll have plenty of time to explore him when's he's better—with is permission of course."

Alex paused, finally catching Nikita's meeting. "Let's hope that's soon then," she teased back.

Nikita's eyes twinkled mischievously. "He's got a nice build, you've got to admit."

"You're gonna make me jealous," Alex warned, smiling as her eyes ran appreciatively down the masculine curve of his back to the place where the sheet rode low across his hips.

"Roan help you undress him?"

"Yeah, why?"

Nikita looked up. "Another thing you can do when he wakes up."

Alex flung a wad of wrapped gauze at her, making her duck to miss being hit. Just then Birkhoff moaned softly and turned his head on the pillow. Alex placed her hand on the back of his head, gently stroking his hair as she leaned close.

"Hey…you waking up finally?"

He sighed and lifted his hand, dropping it back onto the mattress. She could see his eyelids flutter before he settled back into the painkiller-induced haze. She looked up as Nikita bent her head next to his.

"What's this—Birkhoff crashing at my place again?" she breathed gently, laying a hand on his arm. "I thought we were finished planning on how to take down Division."

When he didn't answer she got up and checked the IV, tapping the bag. "Where's the new one?"

Alex nodded toward the table. "Over there." Then she bent over him and kissed his temple. I think he's going back to sleep."

"Well if he gets delirious we'll have to tie his wrists."

Alex glanced at her in horror. "No way! Percy had him tied up like that when he whipped him—"

"Look if he starts thrashing around he'll tear open those stitches," she warned, eyeing the bag and waiting to change it. "Trust me, it'll be for his own good, but we'll take turns watching him. You look exhausted so I'll go first after we finish up."

"Ok," she agreed, unrolling the gauze over his back, tucking her hand beneath his armpit and rising to slide it beneath his chest. He groaned softly so Nikita bent to help after she replaced the IV. By the time they finished he was out again.

Nikita stood straight, hands on her hips. "I'll get more supplies after you've rested. Now go wash up."

Gently draping the sheet over his back she stood and stretched. "Do you have anything for fever?"

"Of course—Roan didn't leave you anything?"

She shook her head. "Not for that—he said he's only good for emergencies."

Nikita shook her head. "Who would have thought a _cleaner_ would actually treat someone?"

"He's actually very nice," Alex smiled. "He said he's retiring soon, but that he'll check up on Birkhoff in a day or two."

"Retiring?" Nikita gasped. "A cleaner—retiring?"

"That's what he said, though I doubt anyone else knows."

"Well that's one less problem for us…maybe with half of Division jumping ship it'll finally sink on its own."

Alex eyed her suspiciously. "What about Michael?"

Nikita turned away, making Alex suspect she was hiding something. "Michael's his own man," she sighed, turning to glance down at their patient. "But my guess is that with Birkhoff gone, he'll leave just from boredom."

Alex laughed, gazing back down at Birkhoff. "Yeah, nothing's the same without him, is it?"

"It certainly isn't," she sighed, patting Alex's cheek before bending to kiss the top of his head. "Welcome home, nerd."

_**Three days later Alex awoke slowly, opening her eyes to early dawn just before the sun rose. **_She stretched lazily, nuzzling the pillow with her cheek as she shook off a sound sleep. Glancing up at the lavender and pink streaked sky she tensed, feeling as if she was being watched. As her eyes swept the room she noted Nikita's deserted recliner and saw that her coat was gone. Then her gaze drifted toward their patient and she froze in shock. His eyes were open, clear and alert as they held her prisoner. Their intense scrutiny burned into her heart as she slowly lifted her head, staring back. Then he smiled lazily, the tip of his tongue peeking out to moisten his dry lips.

"You're awake," he said in a husky voice that wasn't its usual strength. He shifted his head, lifting it a bit more to hold her gaze.

She smiled. "So are you…finally."

His left brow lifted. "I just drifted off…" he said thickly, stretching his leg beneath the thin blanket and sheet.

"You did not," she teased back, pulling herself to a sitting position and watching his eyes brush down her tank top appreciatively before locking with her gaze again. "You've been in and out of consciousness for almost four days."

"Is that so?" he half yawned, lifting his head before wincing and flattening himself back. He shook hand out, drawing her attention to his bound wrist. "Wanna let me loose please?"

She gasped in surprise and scrambled to the edge of her cot, reaching down and unbuckling the leather leash. "Nikita must have done that—I'm sorry! I begged her not to—"

"Hey," he sighed, catching her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. His eyes lit with desire as he tugged gently on it. "It's alright—come here."

She caught his hand between hers and perched on the edge of his bed, leaning down to gently kiss his cheek. He narrowed his gaze upon her face, turning his head more away from the pillow. "How about the other one?" he whispered, making her realize she'd forgotten his other wrist.

She got up and reached over him, managing to unfasten the other. He slowly pulled his arm up, gasping as he did so.

"Damn!" he hissed, pushing up on his elbow as she wound her arm around him.

"You really shouldn't be trying to sit up," she warned but he did his best. With her help and tucking the pillows behind his neck he managed to half sit up, shoving a smaller pillow beneath his lower back. Somehow he managed to lay without putting much pressure on his injuries, and grinned up at her as he caught his breath.

"That's better," he sighed, eyeing her appreciatively. "The view is better this way."

She blushed and sat down again, careful not to disturb him. He shifted his legs, tugging the sheet over his stomach while avoiding her eyes. She thought his modesty was touching, but when he gazed back up at her the look in his eyes took her breath away. "Daniel—"

"You look so beautiful when you first wake up," he whispered, catching her hand. She stared at him, her emotions flooding her with a heady mix of contrasts. Blinking against her tears, she smiled down at him.

"I'm glad you're better," she said softly, leaning close and touching his scraggly beard as she kissed him gently, breathing in his scent before she straightened.

"With a nurse like you I'd have to be," he sighed, thumb gently stroking her hand. "Thanks for coming to my rescue, milady."

She nodded, wiping at her eyes as she smiled. "My pleasure, milord."

He studied her face a moment, closing his eyes in frustration. "If only my back wasn't ripped up…"

"What?" she whispered, resting her head next to his on the pillow. "What would you do?"

He slid his hand to rest it over her pajama- clad knee. "Either embarrass myself further, or ravish you," he choked with a soft laugh.

"You _are_ feeling better!" she teased, kissing his whiskers but wanting to lick them instead. "You don't know how happy that makes me—"

He turned his head and cut off her words, capturing her lips in slow and delicious kiss. She sighed against his lips, stroking her fingertips down his throat. "I was so scared…" she whispered to him, shifting closer against his side.

Capturing her hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed it, his eyes darkening in passion. "You're torturing me, Alex," he whispered, smiling gently to soften his words. "I'm not a well man…"

She smiled and nibbled his lower lip. "You're recovering faster than you think," she said softly, running her fingers over his jaw and delighting in his response.

"You'd better get up before I lose my mind," he whispered, tracing a finger down her throat as she shivered with pleasure, "not to mention other parts….somebody's coming."

She froze, listening as she held his gaze. He smiled a wan smile as they heard Nikita's voice.

"I'm here!" she called out, her steps echoing up the stairs.

Alex jumped up, trying to disengage her fingers from his grip as he finally let go, pulling the blanket higher over himself.

"Everybody decent?" Nikita panted as she stepped out into view. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. "Nerd—you're awake!"

He grinned weakly. "I am, even at this ungodly hour."

She surged toward them, setting down a large paper shopping bag before smiling at Alex and bending toward him. He reached up to touch her arm as she kissed his cheek in a sisterly fashion, straightened and eyed him critically. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," he moaned, glancing up at his IV. "You haven't been feeding me well enough."

She shrugged. "That's the last of it. I'm afraid you'll have to choke down pills from now on, unless you want me to crush them up in applesauce for you?"

"That would be nice," he moaned, smiling stiffly as he adjusted the pillow beneath him. "Unsweetened applesauce, please."

She eyed Alex, who laughed as she shook her head and went to inspect the bag. "I think what he really needs is coffee."

"I have a brewer right here," she stated, eyeing Birkhoff. "You still like Columbian?"

"Columbian _coffee_," he teased, opening one eye at her. "Actually I'm kind of starving…"

"Sorry, Roan said all you can have is dry toast the first few meals," Alex sighed.

He opened the other eye, his brow furrowing. "Dry toast? You've got to be kidding! The last thing I had was some popcorn with the engine—"

They eyed him as his words trailed off and he fell silent, his mood changing abruptly.

"You heard the lady," Nikita stated, nodding to Alex as she started toward the kitchen area. "Dry toast and coffee coming right up."

"He seemed like a great guy," Alex said softly, emptying the bag and flattening it out before sitting at the foot of his bed.

He opened his eyes and studied her a moment. "Yeah, he was."

They read each other's minds, listening distractedly to Nikita's preparations. Then she squeezed his calf beneath the covers and got up to assess the gauze supplies Nikita had replenished.

"Don't worry," she reassured him, eyeing him with concern. "You'll be up and out of here in no time."

He sighed, closing his eyes again. "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of…"

_**Roan glanced back at Percy's penthouse suite from a distance, smiling wanly. **_He's spent the last 10 years slaving for that monster, committing crimes he'd never imagined he'd have to do while in civilian service. If he hadn't had a better plan he'd almost want to return to active duty and would have, if his age wasn't a factor. It was honest work by comparison, and sure beat shadowing the old order of Division.

"I could be a mortician, an EMT or mercenary," he sighed, finally turning away from the specter of the burning floor of the high rise. "But for now I think I'll just be a PI and find Giselle," he sighed, hearing the final explosion go off and smiling in relief.

Walking toward his Cooper, he opened the door and climbed in. It was amazing that such a small vehicle accommodated his long legs, and as he drove off he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Just one more stop to check on my friend Seymour," he said, turning up the classical music station on the radio. "He'll be glad to hear how I finally got Percy, once and for all."

Driving toward Nikita's section of town, he felt the weight of the past decade lift from him, freeing him once and for all. He'd thought long and hard about this day, having planned it for months except for the part involving Birkhoff, Alex and Nikita. Everything had gone according to play, and helping them would only take another hour of his time and help heal his guilty conscience. If Amanda was right Michael would be stepping in too, which would leave her to take her the helm and her rightful place under Oversight. She would manage the business well, and treat the recruits better than any other generation of them. The three men who they'd decided were still loyal to Percy had been shanghaied off to different parts of the Third World as planned. Now she was free to choose her own staff. He'd promised to keep in touch with her but as per their agreement he'd return only to help in the most crucial tasks until his retirement plans were finally complete.

The morning program was highlighted by soft harpsichord music with a background of chirping and twittering birds, a perfect accompaniment to the newly risen sun. He glanced in his rear view mirror and smiled at the cloud of smoke rising from Percy's condominium.

He took the exit ramp which would lead him to Nikita's lair, trusting that his patient was recovering well enough by now. Alex hadn't contacted him except to thank him again for rescuing Birkhoff. He thought they were a good match, and the way Birkhoff had treated them on their last field op had done a lot to earn him his respect. As he circled the block and confirmed that the way was clear, he pulled into the parking garage and found a spot, climbing out with his medical bag for his last patient check, at least for a while. After this he'd be on his way, and was looking forward to the beginning of his road trip. The sun streamed through the glass all around him and he breathed in the fresh morning air.

"A new day has truly dawned," he sighed with a smile, gripping his bag in one hand.

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt_


	12. Ch 12 Transitions

_**Chapter 12 Transitions**_

_**Birkhoff stared at her over the rim of his coffee cup, eyes following her every move. **_Swallowing distractedly, he watched her reach overhead, take down a pan and gently toss her hair over one shoulder before she turned back to catch him watching.

"How's the coffee?" she asked as if she hadn't noticed, setting the pan down and reaching for the batter.

"Great," he answered, clearing his throat. "Thanks." Glancing over at their host, he saw that Nikita wore a bland expression as she stared at her monitor.

_So when is she going to leave? _he wondered, remembering how she'd mentioned some errands she'd needed to do. That had been over an hour ago.

Turning back he met Alex's sapphire gaze, and had the distinct feeling that she could read his mind. Her mouth curled up into a smile as she spooned dough into the pan while he couldn't seem to stop staring at her. Especially when she seemed to enjoy it so much.

"It's almost ready to go in," she stated, sprinkling something over the top as she also eyed Nikita.

"Don't rush on my account," he murmured, catching Nikita throwing him a look for the third time in less than five minutes. Each time he'd caught her she'd quickly looked away, making him suspicious. "Want some help?" he asked Alex.

She looked up with a sarcastic smile. "I'm almost done."

"Sorry," he grinned, shifting uncomfortably despite the raw ache in his shoulders, "better late than never."

Nikita shook her head at his comment as she typed something, still pretending not to be interested in their interaction.

"You _did_ offer to cook for me once, if you remember," Alex teased, eyeing him meaningfully before turning to place the pan in the oven. "Careful," she threw over one shoulder, "I might ask you for a raincheck."

"_No problemo_," he drawled, sliding off the stool and walking toward her. She turned to face him, wiping her hands on a towel as she gazed up at him. He smiled, feeling bit off-centered as he leaned closer. She braced him up with the hand she placed at the center of his chest. "As soon as I get my land legs back," he hissed, surprised at the sudden weakness he felt.

"Whoa there," she warned with a smile as he righted himself. Glancing down at her hand, he studied her well manicured fingers spread over the rows of gauze still binding him. When he looked back up into her eyes she smiled knowingly, pulling her hand away. "Maybe you'd better sit back down, Birkhoff."

He drew the edges of his shirt closer. "I hate being useless," he sighed, feeling the new incision Roan had made below his belt line to remove his tracking device, taking him permanently off-grid from Division's monitoring.

"You could help _me_ with something," Nikita suggested, her smile smug. "I'm in a bind here."

"Yes, ma'am," he drawled, walking toward her on a more even keel. He blamed the painkiller and antibiotics for draining even more of his strength.

At his approach Nikita slid off the chair and held it for him. With an apologetic smirk he reluctantly sat down before her monitor. She leaned close, reaching over his arm to bring up the problem she wanted help with.

"Careful hot shot," she breathed while Alex washed the bowl and utensils under running water. "I've got my eye on you."

He smiled at the screen, pulling the mouse from under her hand to manipulate her data. "Thought you said you had someplace to beee…" he breathed, eyes on the monitor.

"Don't be so eager to get rid of me," she chuckled. "I'm waiting for those cinnamon rolls—can you blame me?"

"Certainly not," he drawled, enjoying the teasing banter they'd always had. Glancing up at her, he saw her reserved smile though she was watching his test scan run. "And don't think I'm not grateful for your putting me up."

"I know you are, nerd," she smiled, shaking her head at what he'd already done to solve her hacking problem. She stared at him in awe. "You're _so good_ at this! It would've taken me hours to even get close!"

He sighed contentedly. "Glad to earn my keep, for the time being."

"You've done more than that already," she answered, straightening and turning his chair so that he faced Alex. She looked up, eyes darting between them.

"What?" she demanded, frowning at Nikita's bemused smile. "Am I missing something?"

"I would like to make an announcement," Nikita stated, laying her hand over his wrist. "Now that Birkhoff here is cut off from Division and essentially homeless, I think we should make renovations to the place—you know, make it more livable for three."

He glanced up at her with a somber expression. "Ah…I can't stay," he warned gently, "not that I don't appreciate the offer."

"Oh come on, nerd, it'll be fun," Nikita smiled.

"Sorry, boss—I got other plans."

Alex came over, crossing her arms and eyeing him hopefully. "But Nikita just offered you a place here, with us..."

"Don't worry, you won't be the only guy," Nikita replied. "Michael's already been here, and I'm trying to convince him to move in."

"Seriously, I have other plans," he repeated, eyeing Alex meaningfully. "I just haven't had the chance to discuss them with anyone…"

She eyed Nikita, who straightened and removed her hand from his wrist. "Maybe I should give you two some time to talk—"

"No—it's fine," Alex said stiffly, walking toward the beds. "Breakfast will be ready in about 10 minutes."

"It smells delicious," Nikita called after her, darting him a warning glance. _Go after her…_

He got up stiffly as Alex flipped the covers back on her roll-way bed and began to remake it.

Nikita slid back into her chair. "Thanks, Birkhoff…now I can finally get on with my work."

"Sure… we can talk later," he said distractedly, puzzled by the way Alex marched around his bed, which was really Nikita's, snatching up the pillows to toss them aside before straightening the bed military style, her movements crisp and annoyed.

"What's wrong?" he said, going over to her as she finished. She didn't answer, so he stepped in front of her to block her retreat back toward the kitchen area.

She looked up, expelling a tense breath. He waited, gazing into her eyes until she lost some steam. Eyeing Nikita, she looked back up at him with a shrug. "I don't know—it just seemed kind of nice, picturing all of us as roommates."

He leaned closer, wishing they were alone. "I've gone the college route already," he said gently.

"Don't mind me," Nikita called, waving her hand as she studied her monitor. "You guys talk."

"It's fine," she insisted, her voice throaty as she reached past him to grab her robe and kick her slippers beneath the roll-away. He watched her hang up the robe wondering how he could get her to be patient with him. He'd only just crawled out of his pain-filled haze only yesterday.

"Hey," he said softly, catching her arm and. "It's definitely not fine."

She managed to shake off whatever was bothering her as he reached up to catch a tendril of her hair, gently rubbing it between his fingers. She stared up at him, her eyes huge and fluid. He wanted nothing more than to cup her cheek and kiss her, but he was too aware of Nikita's watchful eye.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, reaching up to touch him over his heart. He caught her hand, bracing himself against his reaction to her touch. "I'm being silly and childish—"

"No, you're not," he whispered, holding her gaze though he was tempted to stare at her lips. "We'll talk, alright?"

She nodded as the timer chimed, then forced a smile before stepping away. "Breakfast is served!"

Nikita leapt from her chair, beating her to the oven. "I'll get them," she chortled, "I can't wait to sink my teeth into one. Get the butter, will you?"

"Sure," Alex laughed, thankful for her effort to cheer them up. "More coffee?"

"Naturally," she answered, placing the pan on the trivet and turning to take out three plates and knives. "Come along, nerd," she croaked toward him, "your first real breakfast is about to be served!"

He walked over to the breakfast bar, laying a hand over his heart as he bowed his head. "I'd be honored, ladies…thanks for the spread."

Nikita served him first, cutting him the biggest gooiest cinnamon bun he'd ever seen, sliding it onto his plate. "There you go!"

Alex's eyes twinkled as she poured him another cup of coffee. "Hope you like them."

He sat down across from her, inhaling the fragrance of the cinnamon before he placed a forkful into his mouth. Watching them settle down to their own, he felt the spice and sugar melt on his tongue as he chewed. Then, letting it slide down his throat toward a very empty stomach, he closed his eyes.

"Um-ummmmhhh," he moaned, "baking heaven."

Nikita swallowed and laughed lustily, poking Alex with her elbow. "So it's true in _his_ case—the way to a man's heart is through his stomach…or maybe other parts."

Alex bit into her own, holding his gaze as he stared them down. "I'm not even going to reply to that," he assured them. They laughed as he lifted his mug with a smirk. "No way, _ladies_."

At the bang of a door below Nikita stiffened, then jumped up to check the video cam. "It's Michael!" she gushed, her face lighting up as she ran off to greet him.

Alex stared after her as he reached for her hand, and when she looked at him he smiled gently. "Hey," he whispered, watching her eyes soften. "We ok?"

She nodded, distracted by footsteps coming up the stairs. Nikita tugged Michael into view as they pulled their hands back.

"Hey—look who's returned to the land of the living," Michael greeted him, his eyes shifting to his heavily bandaged chest, the dark circles under his eyes and his pale skin. "Or have you?" he scowled.

Birkhoff reached up to grip his hand for a brief shake. "There's no doubt—care to join us?"

"Don't mind if I do," he breathed, leaning over to kiss Nikita's cheek before waving to Alex. "Looks like one little happy family of ex-Divisionites."

"Almost is," Nikita admitted, handing him a bun. "We're making the transition—you're next."

"Oh I'm going out, but in stages," he sighed as Alex poured him a cup of coffee. "Baby steps, right Alex?"

She shrugged, glancing at Birkhoff. "I'm not sure how yet—everything's twisted around so quickly."

"Tell me about it," Michael grumbled, sipping his coffee and eyeing Birkhoff. "I can hardly believe Roan did Percy in—who could see that coming?"

He shook his head, his stomach full from only half a cinnamon bun. "The guy's amazing, but after what Percy did to me and killing the engineer—"

"He what?" Michael choked, eyeing Nikita. "Percy killed _him_? Whatever for?"

"No reason," he answered, shaking his head. "I knew I'd be next—probably sooner than expected."

"I saw him do it," Alex added. "I was hiding in the ventilation duct watching them work, then Percy came in, found out he'd taught Birkhoff what he needed to know, then just reached over and broke his neck. It was horrible…"

Michael eyed her suspiciously. "Why were _you_ anywhere near that?"

"She was following my orders," Nikita stated, laying a hand on Michael's arm. "I'm sorry, Alex—I had no idea Percy was _that _cruel."

"The guy suspected it," Birkhoff admitted quietly. "He kept saying something about us being expendable."

"Percy needed you, which is why he didn't kill you," Alex stated, studying his expression.

Michael's face lit with revelation. "Wait a minute—you used to accuse me of being Percy's pet, and that you were the whipping boy…correct me if I'm wrong—"

"You're not," Birkhoff sighed, "that wasn't the first time, but compared to this one it was a slap on the hands. No, man—my days were numbered there. I had to get out."

Michael nodded toward Alex. "So you took her with you?"

"No—of course not," he shot back, eyeing Alex as she interrupted.

"I followed him and begged him to take me with him," she admitted, reaching for his hand. He squeezed hers gently, eyeing Michael soberly.

He looked stunned. "Wow," he smiled, glancing at Nikita. "You know I sensed there was something between them, but passed it off as just teasing and flirting."

"Seems we were both wrong," Nikita admitted, laying a hand on his arm. "Now you and Alex need to get out, and soon. It should be easier, with Percy gone."

"Don't underestimate Amanda," Birkhoff warned. "Roan said she's already reported to Oversight and taken command with their blessing."

"One false step and Amanda will have Alex taken out," Michael worried, eyeing him as well. "And you'd better watch your back my friend, with all you know and have worked on."

"Roan took out his tracking device," Alex stated, her gaze moving back to him. "And Nikita's looking for a way to neutralize mine. Till then I'll play it safe."

"That'll be my priority as well," he admitted, studying her expression. "Don't worry—we'll fry that kill chip if it's the last thing we do."

She smiled bravely, lifting her cup. "I know you will."

"I've planned getting out for years," he sighed, waving a hand. "It was only a matter of time."

"But you had the highest position, next to Percy's and Amanda's," Michael marveled. "Why risk it, when you could do so many things undercover and on scene?"

"You never saw the way Percy hung over me and played mind games to prevent that," he sighed. "No, it was a trap and I've finally had enough. Besides that, Division has no idea what they're going to get as payback from me…nobody does."

When they stared at him in surprise he got up and walked toward the windows, gazing out over the city. "All the years I slaved for them, gotten ulcers from the pressure they put on me…I'm done, but I'll be leaving them with a big surprise."

"Well I gotta go," Michael announced, getting up as Nikita announced she was going out too. "Be well, Birkhoff."

"Thanks," he called, half turning to watch them leave while Alex came to his side.

"I'll be back for dinner," Nikita called before she disappeared around the corner.

They listened as their footsteps faded, then the door locked behind them. Winding her arm around the back of his waist she leaned her head against his good shoulder. He gripped her hand, too sore to lift his arm to her shoulders. They stood together in silence, looking out over the city.

Alex sighed contentedly, gazing up at him. "Alone at last…" she smiled shyly.

He stared into her questioning gaze. "Time for our talk, princess," he said gently. " I couldn't explain, before."

"That's fine," she breathed, turning her cheek into his palm. "I understand."

He closed his eyes. "I don't deserve you," he said huskily, lifting her cheek and kissing her lips. She kissed him back, sharing slowly exploratory kisses until he couldn't stand any more. "Wish I wasn't all cut up right about now …."

She laughed huskily, easing away. "We have to take it easy til you're better."

"I'm a whole lot better right now," he choked, trying to stomp down his desire for her. Clutching her hand, he led her back toward the table. "Let's sit down and I'll tell you everything I'm planning and your part in it—assuming you're in?"

She moved before him, stood on her toes and kissed him saucily. "If you're planning anything I'm _definitely_ in."

He studied her critically. "Really? Just like that?"

She nodded and smiled. "Just like that."

"You're sure?"

"Very sure…the sooner the better."

He sighed, eyeing her closely. "It'll mean the highest level of commitment..."

Her eyes fired as she stared him down. "You don't think I'm committed?"

"It's not that," he warned gently, lifting her hand and kissing her knuckles. "You just haven't heard the whole story."

"Then tell me," she insisted, leading him toward the stool. "And sit down, before you fall down."

"Hey," he protested, sitting anyway. "I'm not that much of a weakling—"

"No, but you've been through a lot," she sighed. "And I don't want anything interfering with this discussion."

He eyed her fondly as she sat where Michael had, turning the stool to face him and pressing her knees against his. "I'm ready."

His eyes brushed down her petite form, focusing on the intimate touch of her knees against his. Clearing his throat, he looked up. "Alright princess—listen up, then give me your royal decree once I've finished."

She leaned her arm on the table and studied him with rapt attention. Distracted at first, he began to relate his plan, careful to keep the exact details and locations vague as she watched him in stunned silence. He told her how he'd amassed a good sized fortune and what he meant to do with it, reassured by the look in her eyes that she was the one to share it with. If she agreed he hoped to make the most of their time together and somehow find a place to build something good from the rubble of their past.

_**Alex stared at Nikita, wondering how to begin. **_Everything Birkhoff had told her still astounded her, but judging by the expressions on his face he had been truthful with her. Now it was up to her to learn how to trust him completely, something she'd not been able to do with anyone in a very long time.

"Well, what happened?" Nikita repeated, clutching her hand. "What did he say?"

She shook her head. "I still can't believe it," she admitted softly. "He always seems so casual about everything…"

"Alex please—you're killing me with the suspense!" Nikita gushed, eyeing the golden glow of the lights streaming toward them from inside. "Did he tell you what he plans and where he's going? And what did he mean by paying Division back?"

"Nikita, please," Alex urged, "give me a chance! I'm still trying to take it all in—"

"He must have offered you the chance to work with him—"

"Yes, he did," she said carefully, knowing she had his ok to share with Nikita.

"Don't keep me in suspense—I know he's got some major cyber intrusion in the works—"

"He asked me to marry him," she interrupted, her heart flooded with emotion by his unexpected proposal.

She smiled into the momentary silence, though Nikita dropped her hand. "What?" she croaked, her hopeful expression fading. "_What_ did you say?"she whispered, her eyes darting back to the apartment.

Now that she'd told Nikita her spirits lifted again. "He asked me to marry him, Nikita," she sighed happily. "Birkhoff and me, married!"

"Alex, are you serious?" Nikita croaked, shaking her head. "Is _Birkhoff_ serious?"

Her smile faded. "Of course he is…why do you say that?"

Nikita looked shocked, a cynical smile lifting her lips. "Birkhoff—_married?_ _"___

When Alex saw her cover her mouth to keep from laughing she felt like hitting her. "Yes! He asked me to marry him and _I _said yes—you have a problem with that?"

Nikita's smile began to fade. "I'm sorry," she breathed, lifting a hand to her forehead. "It's just so…  
>'surprising' I guess is the word. He's like the perennial bachelor or perennial ladies' man, to me—"<p>

"If I'd known you were going to laugh I never would have told you!" she cried, turning to leave.

"Alex wait," Nikita called, "I'm sorry—don't go, please!"

She stopped, gazing at him through the glass panels as he sat at Nikita's computer, working through a problem for her. And all the while Nikita was out on the landing laughing at him. Turning abruptly, she pulled her sweater coat closer and pointed a finger at her.

"You know, you can be really heartless sometimes!" she accused. "You treat him like he's your little slave when you're not flirting with him, as if _his_ feelings don't even matter!"

"I'm sorry, Alex—I didn't mean to insult you, or him—"

"He really liked you once, but all you ever did was tease him!" she added, hating the jealousy surging through her at the thought of him having a crush on Nikita, albeit years ago. "You like playing with men, don't you? Kinda makes you feel powerful and in control, doesn't it? Well you don't know him at all if you think he's just someone to flirt with or dispose of when he's not _useful_ to you anymore!"

Turning away she ignored Nikita's pleas and pulled the door open, storming across the room. He called her name as she rushed toward the stairs, unable to face him with Nikita coming after her.

"What's wrong?" he shouted after her, rising to his feet and staring accusingly at Nikita as she marched past him.

"It's a girl thing," she explained, ignoring his glare as she passed. "We'll work it out."

"That makes me feel _so _much better," he called out.

Alex hated leaving him, but even more she hated the way Nikita had spoiled what had become the most wonderful afternoon of her life. He'd asked her to _marry _him, promising to take care of her and help them make a real life together, a _normal _life. She loved him for it, even though right now it seemed an impossible dream. But she also trusted him and believed in him, and she'd said yes. Vowing not to let Nikita spoil it, she stopped suddenly when she heard her call out again. Turning to face her, she glanced up at the building and saw his silhouette as he stood looking down at them. He shifted when their eyes met even across the distance, but she nodded to him and lifted her chin, shoving her hands into her pockets. He was watching, and she could feel his strength supporting her.

"You may think we're just stupid kids but we're not!" she shouted at Nikita, encouraged by her remorseful expression. And the humor and mocking in her expression were gone.

"You two are anything but stupid," she admitted, trying to catch her breath. "At first I thought it was just a naïve dream, but I'm willing to support you in whatever you decide…both of you."

Alex stared at her a moment, deciding she was being truthful. She lifted her chin another notch. "Alright. I appreciate that."

"And I'm going to give Seymour my congratulations, too," she added. "I remember now, we talked about this a while ago and I decided you'd make a good match."

"Then we have your support?" she checked, trying not to hold her breath. Without Nikita's approval and help, everything would be much more difficult.

She nodded. "More than that—you have my blessing."

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt_

10


	13. Ch 13 Exodus

_**Chapter 13 Exodus**_

_**Alex stopped abruptly inside the doorway, clutching her bags as she stared at him. **_She'd let herself in by the back and come up the stairs quietly, catching him in the act of getting dressed. At her entrance he froze, slowly turning his head to look at her. Feeling the power of his gaze clear across the room she smiled, forcing herself to keep from asking how he felt.

It was obvious: his lips were stiffly set with pain as he finished easing the yoke of his flannel shirt up over his injured shoulders and upper back. Eyes never leaving hers, they warned that he didn't want to discuss his injuries, so she gave him a soft "hi" as she walked toward him. Unable to look away, she watched him slowly lower his arms, a movement which played out in slow motion as he gathered the edges of his shirt over what looked like a finely muscled chest. Heart thumping at the look in his eyes, she decided that the sprinkling of dark hair she'd seen at the center of his chest was just the right amount. Glancing back up, she knew he'd caught her interested gaze, which seemed to please him.

"Hi yourself," he replied softly, his lips relaxing toward a smile, though his gaze was intent with longing. The subdued lighting made his hair glow like burnished bronze and the atmosphere in the loft was warm and steamy. Beneath the clean scent of shampoo and soap emanating from him she caught the scent of something he'd cooked, which made her stomach almost growl with hunger.

"You took a shower?" she asked softly, feeling a little nervous beneath his intense expression.

At her question his eyes left her face, flitted down her throat to brush her breasts and then returned. "I did—you look tired," he said huskily.

"It was a long day," she sighed, stretching her shoulders back to relieve the tension in her neck. "I tried to leave earlier but Amanda kept coming into Operations...I didn't want her to suspect anything."

He nodded, grimacing with sarcasm. "Can't have that, can we?"

She waited, but he said nothing more. Just before she turned away he bent toward her, kissing her gently on the lips as his hand caught her elbow. She reached up, touching his upper arm when he didn't lift his head. Breathing in his scent, she felt his lips touch hers again in a tentative kiss as his other hand covered hers. Then he took the bags from her, surprising her. She looked up to catch his enigmatic smile.

"You hungry?"

She nodded, wondering what it was about his kiss that affected her so deeply. "I missed lunch, and something smells really good…"

He glanced toward the dining area, where she saw the table set. "I ordered delivery—stuffed shells and salad. Want some?"

Basking in the navy fire of his eyes she decided his color was better. He looked rested, well on the road to recovery. "I'd love some."

He left her side to go to the stove, and as she followed him she glanced at the stacks of files and papers by the computer. He set down her bags and pulled back her chair, waiting for her to sit down. Then he began to serve her.

"It's still pretty warm," he explained, clearing his throat as she poured herself a glass of water.

"Thanks…what did you do all day?" she asked, leaning her elbows on the table as she watched. He spooned a generous portion of salad and stuffed shells onto her plate, glancing up at her with a smirk.

"Worked in Dr. Frankenstein's Virtual Lab," he sighed, setting the plate before her and nodding toward Nikita's computer. "I finished the program to deactivate your chip, which needs to be done before midnight."

"Or I turn into a pumpkin?" she asked, picking up her fork as he nudged a bowl of garlic bread toward her and sat opposite her.

He laughed softly, picking up a piece of bread and waving it toward her. "Something like that…"

She swallowed a piece and stabbed some shells. "Anything else?"

His brows shot up as he chewed, then swallowed. "I read for a while, caught up on some sleep and managed to shower— which went fairly well except for the time factor."

She bowed her head with a smile. "I'm impressed."

He eyed her, but when she continued eating he reached gingerly for the wine and opened it. "What'd you do in Operations?"

Swallowing, she shrugged. "Just helped out running some searches, then I trained for a few hours and got in some target practice. Michael called in late afternoon with orders to interview the new recruits."

"More new recruits?" he marveled, shaking his head. "God—where do they get them?"

She stabbed a forkful of salad, smiling at his dark expression. "Same place they got us."

"Why doesn't anything ever change there?" he complained, lifting his glass to touch it to hers in a toast. "To freedom, soon gained."

She clicked his glass, holding his gaze as they drank. She noted that he hadn't poured himself much and decided it must be due to his pain meds. He'd already announced a few days ago that he planned to wean himself down, but mixing the two wasn't the best idea. Leaning back, she swallowed contentedly.

"Thanks—this is delicious," she declared as he nodded. "So you ate before?"

"'Fraid so," he sighed lustily, "can't take the antibiotics on an empty stomach."

"How long til you're finished with them?"

"Five more days," he moaned, glancing around the apartment. "It's hard to believe I've been here that many already."

She stared at his profile, sensing the restlessness in him. "In a hurry to leave, Birkhoff?"

He swerved his gaze back to hers, his brow furrowed. "To tell the truth I was, at first."

She lifted her glass for another taste of the wine. "And now?"

He smiled, starting to lean back before catching himself. "Not without you, princess."

"Good," she declared, tilting her head to study him. "So what's the plan?"

His eyes lit with interest as he lifted his water glass and drank half, then set it down carefully. "Tonight we fry your tracker chip and I'll monitor you closely to make sure you don't have any adverse effects."

"So now you do brain surgery?"

"Of course," he teased, shaking his head. "Actually Roan gave me a list of side effects and treatments, and the number of a neurologist he knows if you don't check out or do well—the guy's attached to a local ER not far from here."

She was amazed. "You're still in touch with _Roan_?"

"Sure am, when it comes to you," he admitted unflinchingly. "Why, he creep you out? Trust me, in his case looks are only semi-deceiving, but I'm still treading lightly."

She pouted. "And I thought you guys were best buds by now!"

"Whoa—not quite ready for that," he laughed good-naturedly. "But I do admit he's definitely a changed man, it seems."

"We will be too, once we're out," she predicted. "So, after I go offline, get my privacy back and make it through alright what's next?"

"First I want to be sure you're through the process and feeling fine," he stated, smiling a bit wolfishly. "Then I thought we'd turn down the lights and make out for a few hours."

She laughed, holding his warm gaze. "Is that right?"

"Well Princess, we are _engaged _even though informally," he hinted. "Plus Nikita seems to be pulling another late-nighter…"

Sliding off her stool she went to his side. "Is that all?" she said close to his ear. "Just make out?"

He stared at her closely, expelling a tense breath. "For now, yeah. Why—have something else in mind?"

She reached up and gently stroked his hair back off his temple. "Well, I do admit to having wanted to run my hands through your hair…"

He turned toward her, coming off his stool as he moved closer. "Really? Strange, but I've had the same desire concerning your hair."

He lifted a hand to the back of her neck, gently massaging the tight muscles there. His hands felt warm and capable, and he seemed to know exactly how to knead the knots away. She reached up, gripping his elbows and closing her eyes with a sigh.

"That's it, just relax," he encouraged softly, one hand gently plowing into her hair. Sighing with pleasure, she lifted her face as he stepped closer.

"That feels _soo _good," she choked, blindly sliding her hand over his heart as it started to beat faster.

"I'm glad," he whispered, his lips gently touching hers as his hands held the back of her head.

She pressed gently against him, feeling his support as he wrapped one arm around her back. Returning his tentative kisses, she felt them change and fire her desire for him. "I thought we were going to wait till later."

"The best laid plans…" he sighed, gently tracing the curve of her lips with his fingertip. "You're just too hard to resist."

She laughed softly, lifting her face for his kiss. "Well I like it so far," she admitted softly.

He opened his eyes, studying her closely. "You ain't seen nothin' yet, Princess."

Just then a timer buzzed on the computer and he glanced over at it, his hands resting on her shoulders as she buried her face against his neck.

"Sorry," he breathed in frustration, pulling back a bit as she looked up. "We've got to do it soon—"

"But this is so much more fun," she sighed, rising on her toes to kiss him again.

"Whoa, whoa there sweetheart," he moaned, easing away from her. "You're tempting me too much, and we really need to do this for you."

"Nooo," she protested, slipping her arms around his waist but stopping when he gasped gently. Looking up, she saw him try to hide a wince of pain. "What did I do?" she gasped in regret.

"Nothing," he croaked, forcing a smile and bending to kiss her again.

"Oh no!" she gasped, her eyes wide. "I forgot all about your tracker incision—"

"I'm fine," he answered, sliding his hand into her hair. "Forget it…"

She gazed up at him, kissing him gently with a smile. "I'll go more gently with you, from now on."

He grimaced at her comment. "Thanks, I think."

"Just until you're fully recovered," she added.

"That's reassuring," he smirked, nodding toward the second timer buzz. "Come on—"

"But I really like this part of your plan, Daniel," she reassured him, letting him lead her by the hand to the workstation.

"That's gratifying," he said hoarsely as she moved closer, sliding her arms around him again but higher up. Inserting her nose inside his collar, she felt him freeze as she kissed the side of his neck twice. Then she abruptly let go, stepping back and assuming a businesslike expression.

"I'm ready now," she said, nodding encouragingly as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I ah…" he started, clearing his throat and laughing tightly while she sat down before the monitor and waited, looking up at him expectantly. He pulled his gaze from her face and stared blankly at the screen. "Ah—maybe we should…"

"Let's do it," she gushed, smiling mischievously at him as he slid onto the stool and poised his hands over the keyboard.

With a frown he started programming the timer while she leaned closer, reaching down to slide her fingertips across the top of his thigh. He squinted at the screen, his fingers hesitating at the typing. As she waited and kept it up, he looked like he was going to choke. But he kept his eyes on the screen.

"Ah, Alex…"

"Am I distracting you, Birkhoff?"

"Yeah," he croaked, typing with his left hand and catching her wayward fingers in his other. "Not that I'm complaining."

When he smiled she leaned close and kissed his cheek while he worked. Easing back into place, she watched as he finished a progression of commands before stopping, gazing at her and then pulling her in for a hungry, deeply satisfying kiss. Then he released her, turning back to continue programming and leaving her hungry for more. She took note of the answering smile playing about his lips.

"Hullo—I'm home!" Nikita's voice echoed up the stairwell.

He glanced over at her with a smirk. "Parent Over Shoulder—time to behave," he warned quietly as Nikita breezed into the loft and sniffed the aroma of pasta.

"Am I too late for dinner?"

Alex swallowed a laugh as Nikita came toward them, pulling off her scarf. "What's that I smell? Garlic bread?"

"You're just in time for deactivation," Birkhoff droned, stabbing the last few keys and gesturing toward the dining area. "Grab some dinner so we can get started."

"Birkhoff ordered stuffed shells and salad too," Alex stated proudly, threading her fingers through his despite his intense concentration on what he was typing.

"My favorites!" Nikita gasped, rushing off toward the table. "You guys just eat?"

"Pretty much," Alex answered, turning to gaze after her. "I'm glad you came to hold my hand for support."

Nikita held a piece of bread to her lips, eyes missing nothing. "You've already got Birkhoff's hand, but I'll be glad to cheer you on. By the way," she teased, "you guys make such an _adorable_ couple!"

Birkhoff turned to glare at her over his shoulder while Alex pecked him on the cheek. He turned back to the monitor, looking embarrassed.

"Don't we?" she had to agree with Nikita, resting her head on his good shoulder.

"You definitely do," Nikita sighed, spooning food onto a plate. "I'm so hungry—by the way I'm leaving around 2 to catch the red eye to Miami. Michael and I are rendezvousing there for an op so you'll have the place all to yourselves. We should be there a few days."

"That's good," Birkhoff droned quietly as he worked, smiling as she playfully slapped his knee."

"When's the wedding? I don't want to miss that," Nikita checked, coming toward them with her plate.

Alex shrugged while Birkhoff looked up at her. "We'll have to do it soon," he warned, holding her gaze. "Like this week. We need to be at our destination by the 12th for everything to go according to plan. Which leaves a civil ceremony…"

Alex studied his profile, now that he was back to his screen. "I assumed we'd just go to a justice of the peace," she admitted, having no idea what he'd been thinking of before this moment. "That would be my preference."

"You sure?" he asked, threading his fingers through hers despite Nikita's interested gaze. His eyes found and held hers captive. "I don't want you to feel deprived of a real wedding."

She shrugged. "We can always do something later, when we can all relax."

"Fine with me," he sighed, glancing back toward the monitor. "JP it is, the sooner the better—unless you mind not being here Niki?"

Swallowing, her brows shot up. "Who you going to have be your witness—Roan?"

Birkhoff chuckled while Alex gasped in horror. "Frankly, he'd be a great best man," he answered, glancing up at her. "Nothing will get past him to run interference."

"They'll provide you witnesses, actually," Nikita said thoughtfully, taking another bite of her dinner. Waving her fork, she continued. "'But you guys should have a real wedding at some point and I want to be there, Michael too—it doesn't have to be big, just memorable."

Birkhoff leaned back a bit, looking up at them. "For now, first things first—let's get Alex out from under Division control, shall we?"

"Amen to that," she agreed, eyeing Alex fondly. "It shouldn't hurt a bit, though you might feel a little out of it afterward."

"I'm in good hands," Alex agreed, meeting Birkhoff's gaze.

"I have seen it done once before," Nikita reassured them, glancing over his shoulder at the monitor. "And our genius here knows what he's doing, of that you can be sure."

"And lest we forget, Roan helped too," he added, shaking his head as he handed Alex the headphones.

"Dr. Who, I presume," Nikita sighed, setting her plate down and helping Alex adjust the gear. She pulled at the extension wires as Alex got up. "Sit in the easy chair, so you'll be comfortable."

"Ok," Alex breathed, eyeing Birkhoff. "Can I brush my teeth first?"

He smirked, glancing over at her. "I'd let the taste of garlic linger…it might have a beneficial effect."

"Yeah, it'll give you dreams of dining in the Mediterranean," Nikita agreed, "as opposed to playing lab rat in New York City."

_**Rubbing his temples, Birkhoff glanced tiredly over at the clock. **_It wouldn't be long before dawn, he realized as he gazed out over the city skyline toward the faint glow of light in the east. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to be patient until the ibuprofen began to touch his pounding headache. He'd needed it in lieu of holding the pain meds for his back, not about to go on them again for anything. The lashes that had cut into his shoulders and back were finally healing, and yesterday Nikita had graciously removed all the stitches for him while Alex was working at Division. He thought of Nikita and Michael together in Miami now, working on an op yet able to spend some rare time together for a few days.

Returning his gaze to Alex, he longed for the day when they too could leave and be together. He studied her while she slept, smiling gently at the way she lay on her side, hands tucked beneath her cheek with her hair spread all around her. She was beautiful inside and out—a real princess, now lying aloof in her own secret and silent world of dreams. He still marveled at her presence in his life, hardly able to believe that she was interested in him, but thankful nevertheless. He remembered how their paths had crossed and re-crossed ever since she'd been hauled into Division, their initial reactions to each other clashing, then over time changing and improving. She was feisty, clever and tough and for some reason took him more seriously than anyone ever had, apparently seeing beyond his crass and cynical behavior to the person he was deep inside. The one he kept closed off from everyone else, til her. Because of this he was drawn to her but wary, careful when their interactions led to joking, teasing, friendship, flirting and finally and to his amazement, to romance. Who would have thought anyone would ever be interested in him again? Or that he'd have any opportunity to pursue that interest?

As he considered their relationship he was felt himself suddenly overcome with an unexpected wave of guilt and shame from his past. Gripping him by the throat, he felt himself choke beneath its power and strength. Struggling to breathe, he shoved away the intrusive memories in an effort to pull himself together. Getting to his feet he walked toward the windows and tried concentrating on the lights of the city and the different landmarks, struggling to distract himself until they began to fade. Then with shaking hand he shoved his hair back off his forehead and took a few more slow and deep breaths until they left him. He leaned his hand against the railing and gazed up at the half moon overhead, surprised that they'd surfaced again, and so soon.

Interrupted by a chime from Nikita's computer he realized it was an incoming email and slowly walked toward it, glancing back at Alex as he passed her and finding her still asleep. Gripping the mouse he shifted it until the screen lit up and sat before it, squinting at the heading and shaking his head in wonder. With a thick swallow against his dry throat, he opened it and quickly read the contents, noting the time as Pacific Standard:

_Birkhoff, I owe you—found my wife and son, thanks to your help. We're working on learning how to communicate again, after so long. Unbelievable as it seems, my wife waited for me... If there's anything I can do for you let me know. I mean it— anything. Roan_

He typed back quick congratulations and sent it off. Rising stiffly, he dared to ease his shoulders back in a tentative stretch that hurt less but still pulled unnaturally at his skin. Eyeing the approaching dawn, he walked back to Alex's side to stand staring down at her. He judged her deactivation an apparent success, though she'd suffered some confusion and shakiness afterward. After giving her a sedative he'd watched her closely until she'd finally fallen into a light sleep, then spent an hour transferring her data into the Cancelled Agents database. Cleaning all associated records, he'd removed her identity as completely as he'd removed his own, making her a new identity that would never attract attention. He'd done his own little by little over time making sure no one could find him, not even the analysts at the CIA.

Bending over, he pulled the blanket higher over her shoulder, smiling as she burrowed deeper into the pillow of the bed he'd been using until tonight. Stifling a yawn, he studied the soft curve of her lips and cheek, admiring the thick wavy column of her hair. She slept on her right side, and he was tempted to climb in behind her and hold her in his arms. But he didn't want to disturb her.

"Just have to be patient for that," he whispered, longing for the day they could lie together and share their love. When she stirred again he froze, watching as she stretched a bit. Then her eyelids fluttered. When she stilled he sat down facing her, keeping his distance but waiting for her if she needed anything. Feeling exhausted and drained, he noted the brightening horizon with a weary smile. After a few minutes he felt as if he were being watched and turned to find her eyes open. She was staring at him, her expression blank. He held her gaze, parting his lips as he remembered a similar encounter with her form t he past. Hoping to prompt her memory, if that was needed, he watched her closely.

"Mornin' Sunshine," he rasped gently, waiting to see if she remembered. She continued to stare at him, her eyes studying every inch of his face. The light in the room intensified, taking on a golden glow. He decided to go back in time, to that day in Medical after they'd inserted her kill chip and he'd been called in to activate it. Only this time he'd make a subtle change to see if she caught it.

_Please God, _he pleaded, trying not to worry, _let her be ok, and let her remember._

"Welcome to the big leagues, kid," he said as he'd done that morning. "Your new agent tracker has just gone DOA."

Waiting, he watched her lips part. Her eyes narrowed on him as she stiffened.

" Awesome," she whispered, and after a moment he saw the tiny smile she offered him. Recognition flooded her expression as he breathed a sigh of relief.

He leaned closer, reaching for her hand. "Some do's and don'ts," he repeated as he had that morning. "DO feel secure while on vacation in exotic locales. You are now officially free and offline from Division and all its intel—read me?"

She squeezed his hand and smiled. "Loud and clear." 

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt [last few quotes courtesy of the episode entitled "Free," Nikita Season 1]_

9


	14. Ch 14 Oaths

_**Chapter 14 Oaths **__I'm sorry for the long delay in posting this next chapter. Please read & review _

_**Alex slid her hand over his heart, holding his gaze as she smiled into his troubled expression. **_His hair was mussed from her taken the liberty to run her hands through it. Reaching up, she gently smoothed it back in place.

"Wow," she breathed, shaking her head in wonder as his hands tightened at her waist.

"What?" he croaked, his eyes moving possessively over her features.

"I can't believe it," she admitted, sliding a palm over his pectoral. He wasn't big and brawny, but neither was he built like a nerd—in fact, he was just perfect.

Catching her hand he lifted it and gently kissed her fingertips. "What can't you believe?"

Distracted by the touch of his lips upon the sensitive pads of her fingertips, she watched his expression change to a satisfied smirk. Leaning closer, she kissed his lower lip, making him groan softly as he closed his eyes.

"I think you know," she whispered, smiling at his reaction. He tilted his head back, eyes closed while his lips relaxed toward a smile. All of this told her exactly what she needed to know.

"Humor me," he said thickly, lowering his head and pulling her closer for another lazy, stirring kiss.

She slid both hands to the back of his neck, feeling weak in the knees from his kisses. When he finally lifted his head and studied her, she smiled up at him.

"Well whatever this is between us, I'm addicted."

He laughed softly, sighing against her lips. "Yeah, me too," he whispered, turning his head to kiss her teasingly until she was hungry all over again.

Bracing her hands atop his thighs she gave back with all the pent up passion she felt until he threw his head back. "You're torturing me," he said thickly, catching her hands away.

She shimmied closer, meeting his warning glance. "That's because you're torturing me," she smiled.

"Slow down, baby," he sighed, kissing her gently and slowly running his hands up and down her arms. "Seriously, Alex—I can't take much more of this."

"But it was your idea," she whispered, sliding her hand over his jaw before kissing along its length.

"Come here," he groaned, easily lifting her onto his lap. Bending her backward over the keyboard as she laughed and gripped his arms, he kissed the sensitive spot at the base of her throat.

"I'm falling!" she laughed as he shifted her back up for a stirring kiss.

"I've got you," he reassured her, eyeing her closely. "Now let me get back to work, 'kay?"

"You work too much," she pouted, sliding her arms beneath his and hugging him. "I just thought I'd help you take a little break."

"Really?" he chuckled, reaching over to type something. "That was at least half an hour ago. Nikita'll have my hide if I don't get this sent off to her."

"She's not your boss," she reminded him, wrapping her feet around his calves as she clung to him. He showed no response but stared at the monitor until she gave up distracting him. Then, with an evil smile, he punched a few function keys and suddenly his left arm slid away from beneath her. Crying out, she clung to him. "I'm falling!"

"For now she is, and no, you're not," he stated, sweeping her back up as she clutched his waist. "That's better—I like my woman clingy."

"Birkhoff! I could have fallen—"

"No you couldn't have," he insisted, his smile content as he hit another few keys and finally the Sent button. "There—all finished!"

"Thank God."

He turned his dark blue gaze on her, quirking his brows. "Now it's time to go apply for a license."

She froze, staring at him in shocked silence. "You mean—a marriage license?"

"Yes, a marriage license—unless you 'd rather go fishing."

She lifted a hand to cover her laugh. "Ah no, a marriage license is fine. It's just that—"

"I'm rushing you," he interrupted, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't—"

"No you're not rushing me at all—let's go," she gushed, hopping off his lap and facing him as he got up.

Eyeing her soberly, he watched her pull on her sweater. "You sure? No regrets?"

She shook her head, glancing around. "Where's my purse? Do I need some kind of ID?"

"I've taken care of that," he told her, all teasing gone. "I started the application online, that is if you still want to go ahead."

She frowned at him. "Of course I want to—I should dress for the occasion, you know—"

"Alex, what is it? he wanted to know, following her. "You look almost scared, but to be honest, so am I."

She studied his expression. "You, scared?" Shaking her head, she waved a hand.

"Yeah I'm scared," he admitted, lifting a hand to push back his hair. "I'm scared that making us legal will kill everything we've had, and I'm scared that you'll grow tired of me when I'm old and gray—"

"Stop teasing me about that!" she warned, walking up to him and studying his expression. Exhaling a tense breath, she nodded. "Ok, I am scared but it has nothing to do with you."

"Then what?"

She shook her head. "It's my background... I guess I'm afraid that when we— when the time comes to…"

"Hey," he said gently, placing his hands on her arms. "I already know what you went through, what you had to go through to survive. And I've got my own baggage, though I've never told you about it."

She waited, watching him take a deep breath before he glanced away. Laughing harshly, he shook his head. "I really don't know how to begin."

"See? It's not so easy, is it? But since you know most of my story, let me go first," she offered, waiting until he looked back at her. "Actually, let's sit down and have a cup of coffee."

He nodded. "Alright."

Once they had coffee and were facing each other, she took a deep breath. "You know I was in the business for a year, just to survive after my parents were killed."

He nodded. "It doesn't matter to me, Alex."

She reached for his hand and smiled. "I know, and I love you for it. But let me finish…most girls for hire have to do crazy things, most of which have nothing to do with sex…or making love."

He looked uncomfortable, but nodded. "Go on."

"It only happened twice, and trust me it's something I'm not proud of. It was horrible, rushed, selfish, meaningless and degrading. Thankfully I managed to run away and hide for a while until they gave up looking for me. Then I was on the streets, running drug money, again nothing to be proud of. But I survived. And you know the rest."

He held her gaze, shaking his head. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

She nodded. "Me too…anyway, it's your turn. There's no way it could be any more embarrassing—"

"Oh it is," he laughed harshly, averting his gaze. "But sometimes it still haunts me."

"Really? How, 'cause you seem fine."

He looked at her, eyes doubtful. "Really? You mean normal?"

"Yes, normal," she smiled, stroking his hand. "And sexy too."

He smiled. "Look who's talking…anyway, since you've so graciously opened up and told me your story, I owe you the same honesty. If you did my assignment you probably know that I hacked into the Pentagon's mainframe, which landed me in jail at the ripe old age of 16."

"Yes, and by the way it was an _amazing_ experience, traveling through Shadownet. Thank you for sharing it with me."

"Don't mention it," he teased, shaking his head. "I had been hacking for a while," he admitted, taking a deep breath. "My dad suspected it for a while, but once I started I couldn't seem to stop. Initially I did it to help him and the other veterans who felt cheated and let down by the government. Anyway, they caught me with his help..."

She stared at him wide-eyed. "You Dad turned you in? Oh, Daniel—"

"We'd grown so far apart we barely knew each other anymore," he sighed, his expression hardening. "But it wasn't just him, it was my girlfriend too. They betrayed me, blew the whistle on me, and the next thing I knew I was being interrogated by the FBI. I ended up in the federal pen and got attacked by a bunch of skinheads…"

She studied his profile, for he'd turned away with an aloof expression. She waited, but he seemed to close himself off from her. Taking his hand between hers, she held it but he didn't look at her.

"They teased me at first, then told me I should be a model," he said in a tight voice. "I should have been in a juvenile correctional institute but they tried me as an adult. One night—they came for me. Beat my cell mate up and dragged me off into a wing that was under construction."

Watching him closely, she had the sense that he'd never told anyone this before. Gripping his hand, she forced herself to wait and hold off making any comments. Inside she grieved for him for having suffered whatever came next.

"There were four of them," he choked, shaking his head and looking up. She could see the moisture in his eyes as he tried to continue. "I screamed and fought but they just beat me more. They were going to—to rape me, but for some reason a guard came by and then the whole place erupted in fights…there were so many guards that night, though I barely noticed. They'd taken my clothes so I crawled under an old table and curled up until they found me. Next thing I knew I woke up from zombie land from the drugs they gave me to "calm" me and Percy stopped in for a visit…the rest is history."

"Dear God," she breathed, shaking her head. "I had no idea, Daniel. So—you weren't _raped_, were you?"

"Not technically," he laughed harshly, finally looking her in the eyes. "I thank God that that guard just happened to come by. If he hadn't…"

"I'm so sorry," she told him, trying not to wince at how hard he squeezed her hand and knowing he didn't know his own strength. "Were you hurt?"

He nodded. "Yeah, most of it on the inside," he admitted. "Amanda counseled me the first few years I came to Division, which I think actually helped because she was a woman. I've been terrified of Percy since that day, for good reason now that we've seen what _he _can do."

She got up and slowly went to his side, gently putting her arms around him. He gripped her close, burying his face against her neck. She held on tight until she felt him begin to relax.

"We've both been through it, haven't we?" she sighed.

He looked up, guiding her to the stool next to him but keeping her hand. "I still have flashbacks," he admitted with a grim expression. "They come on when I least expect."

"When was the last one?"

"The other night, after we did the kill chip procedure on you."

"So you were alone," she sighed.

"Yeah, they usually happen when I'm alone. I guess I'm still pretty paranoid, despite the counseling…so, you still want to marry me, now that you know the dirt?"

She curled a hand around his neck, pulling his forehead to hers. "Of course I do. I love you, more than I can say."

"I love you too."

After some time he leaned over and kissed her cheek. Getting up, he held out his hand. "Let's go for a walk. I think I need some air."

She smiled up at him. "And while we're out, let's go see the justice."

His expression changed dramatically, all the tension draining away while she watched. "You sure?"

Pulling him close, she wound her arm around his back. "I couldn't be surer of anything."

He nodded. "Good…but about our first time—I thought you should know about what happened to me," he admitted. "I just pray nothing weird happens when we're together."

"You mean like your having a flashback?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "You don't have them, do you? Cause that'll make for a really strange marriage if both of us space out—"

Turning to wrap her arms around him, she kissed him gently. "I can't wait to become your wife, and I love the fact that you want to wait."

His brows shot up. "So you don't think it's weird? Or that I'm weird?"

"Well, let's see," she teased, relieved when he laughed as well. "You're the man I love and want to spend the rest of my life with, so I think I can handle whatever happens."

"Good," he sighed, looking as if a weight had fallen from his shoulders. "So all that's left is the mess of scars on my back—nothing you can't handle, right?"

She nodded. "I've got it under control, Birkhoff. All you've got to do is be patient with me. I've got my own baggage, and I think it might be even heavier than yours."

He studied her a moment. "I'm stronger than you think, but do you trust me?"

She eyed him carefully. "I trust you completely."

He bent and picked her up, swinging her around until she cried to be set down. But he kept his arms around her and rewarded her with a few of his drugging and passionate kisses. Then he released her but kept her hand, guiding her toward the door.

"Time to get that license," he announced, his mood completely different.

She tugged and held back until her turned and waited. "You haven't told anyone about what happened to you, except Amanda—have you?"

He sighed, pursing his lips. "Percy knows everything."

"But he never used it against you?"

"No, not that I know of."

She studied his relaxed expression. "What about Amanda?" she asked quietly, a sense of dread creeping over her.

He shrugged. "She's a shrink and that's privileged information," he stated. "She's never used it against me, so I don't think we have to worry. Now let's go, Beautiful. I'm having a hard time waiting to _make you mine!"_ he growled, leaning in for a kiss.

She laughed, patting his cheek. "Me too—I'm right behind you!"

As they hurried down the stairs and out into a gorgeous, warm sunny afternoon she prayed a silent prayer of thanks for having found such a wonderful man. Yet in the back of her mind a seed was planted, and she worried about the fact that Amanda knew all about him. But surely she had nothing against him, and with Percy finally out of her way she'd be busy revamping Division.

Focusing her attention on Birkhoff's description of what he had planned for the day, a smile on her face and her spirits lifting considerably as she shook off her fears. He was soon going to be her husband, and she definitely planned on living happily ever after with him. Forever.

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt_

7


	15. Ch 15 Loyalties

_**Chapter 15 Loyalties**_

_**Birkhoff studied her profile, wondering when he was going to wake up to find he was only dreaming. **_Unable to keep his eyes from her, he watched as she tucked a lock of her hair behind one ear and looked up from the display of rings to meet his gaze. Then her face was transformed with light as she smiled at him, a look of pure joy in her eyes. When she looked at him like that he was possessed by a mad urge to grab her arm, drag her into the alley and have his way with her. Forcing a smile, he swallowed hard and nodded, terrified by this new obsession with her. After years of maintaining a certain level of self control this was certainly something he should be able to handle. But Alex had gotten under his skin and lodged herself inside his heart, and the realization was scary and thrilling at the same time. When her expression changed, going all sultry on when she seemed to pick up on this, he glanced around to see if anyone noticed. They were in public, after all.

"Daniel," she said in her low husky voice.

"What?" he choked more than said, his voice sounding higher than normal.

Her smile changed to an all-knowing expression, switching again to calm reassurance."Come look," she ordered gently. "I think I found the one."

He obeyed, coming to her side and staring at the place where she pointed a well manicured fingertip. There were four rows of rings to contend with, so he lifted his eyes to her face, unable to keep from glancing at her lips before directing his attention back to the rings. Concentrating on the one she indicated to be in the 2nd row down, he studied the gold band with diagonal etchings and clear borders.

"Very nice," he sighed, looking up into her eyes. "But I want a matching set," he decided.

Her brows shot up. "Really?" she breathed, eyeing him closely. "You realize that I'll have to wear mine on a chain beneath my clothes until…you know."

He straightened, hating the thought of her returning to work after the three day holiday. "I plan on wearing mine in plain view," he sighed, glancing at the matched sets atop the counter. "How about checking out those?"

She eyed the ones he indicated, her expression guarded. Then she nodded. "They're nice…"

"But they don't do anything for you," he concluded, noting the salesclerk who eyed them intently and held up one finger.

"Not really," she admitted with a sigh. "Would you wear the etched style if we found a pair?"

"I ah…don't think so," he said carefully. "Looks too fancy for me."

"But they're unique, like us," she stated, turning to face him. "I don't want plain rings, Daniel."

"Well I do—"

"But this one is so gorgeous—"

"I don't do gorgeous well, Alex."

"And you're determined to have matching rings?"

"I am—why? Don't want to show the world we belong together?"

She looked stunned. "No—that's not what I mean! I only prefer that kind of design, but you obviously don't—"

"Wanna fight about it?" he challenged, brows lifted.

She paused, tilting her head as if considering it. "I might."

"Really? That's good because I like fighting with you."

She stared at him a moment. "Really…and why is that?"

He slid his hand to the small of her back as she beamed up at him, groaning inwardly as he saw the saleswoman coming over.

"So we can kiss and make up," he whispered as she chuckled, shaking her head. Lifting a hand, she placed it on his chest and stared at his mouth. "Don't look now, but we've got company."

"Hello there, my name is Charlene—what can I do for you two lovebirds?"

Birkhoff frowned at the woman despite Alex's soft laugh. "We'd like to look at double rings, please."

"Of course," she replied, lifting her chin as he cleared his throat. "My fiancée would like the Florentine etching if you have any with that design," he stated blandly.

"We do have some matching rings in that design, if you'll wait while I get them," she sang, turning away to retrieve them.

Alex swatted his chest. "Be nice, my love," she said sweetly, gazing up into his scowl.

"Lovebirds? That's insulting," he complained.

"I promise we'll leave as soon as we find you a matching ring."

He raised his brows. "No substitutions?"

"None whatsoever," she smiled, leaning back against him as he wound his arm loosely around her."And as soon as we go we can make out in the alley."

He smiled in relief. "You are an amazing woman—and you can read minds."

She looked up at him. "Only yours."

He shook his head. "I still can't believe nobody else snatched you up by now."

"I would have said no if they'd tried."

"Oh yeah?" he breathed, studying her expression. "Then why me?"

"Let's see," she sighed, gazing heavenward. "For one thing you're brilliant, you have manners beneath that tough exterior, you're endearingly grouchy and sexy at the same time and—even better—you make me laugh."

He met her waiting gaze with a frown. "I hope those weren't in order of importance?"

Laughing, she slid her fingers beneath the lapel of his jacket. "No, why?"

He grinned. "I'd prefer 'sexy' to be at the top of the list."

"Oh it is, most definitely," she smiled, eating him up with her gaze as the saleswoman came back toward them.

_**With a satisfied smile Alex tucked the velvet bag into her purse and shoved open the door.**_ They had found the perfect set of rings, these with less Florentine design but a worthwhile compromise, and Daniel had even paid for them in advance, telling her they'd get them engraved when things finally quieted down. She looked up at his profile as they walked back up the block, squeezing his hand and thankful that he'd been patient with her and endured all the samples she'd tried on until they finally decided. It was two hours later and neither of them had had lunch, but when she saw the cut off ahead which lead into an alley with more little shops she squeezed his hand. He looked down at her, his mind seemingly far away.

"Let's take a shortcut," she told him, leading the way into the alley.

"Pleeeease no more shopping," he sighed, "I'm starv—"

Cutting him off with a kiss as she pulled him into the doorway of a closed shop, she gripped his upper arms and held on while he quickly caught on and kissed her back hungrily with a soft groan. Smiling as his arms balanced her she felt her back touch the brick wall as he pressed into her embrace. His arms slid lower, pulling her higher against him and enabling her to thrill at the hard planes of his body. She could feel his desire as they passed the kiss back and forth until he bent his head and panted against her cheek. She lifted her arms and circled his shoulders, leaning her head back with a soft laugh.

"You're without a doubt the sexiest man alive," she gasped as he laughed, his voice a deep chuckle that reverberated against her chest.

Pulling back, he studied her expression, lifting a hand to her cheek as he smiled. "Though you've momentarily satisfied one hunger, my stomach is still growling for sustenance," he breathed.

She held his gaze, nodding toward her right. "There _is_ a small café at the end of the alley," she smiled.

"Good, but we've got to make it quick—the justice's office closes in two hours," he stated, taking her arm and helping her maneuver along the cobblestones.

"Ok, then let's get something to go and eat in the park," she suggested.

"Sounds like a plan," he nodded, slinging an arm over her shoulders as they gained better pavement.

_**Birkhoff straightened his tie, freezing when he saw her come into the room again. **_Her steps slowed, pulling his attention down to the white high heeled shoes she wore before he shot his gaze back up her petite form. Swallowing hard, he noted the satin drape of her dress, the hem just above her knees and the cinched fabric that showed off her tiny waist. His eyes traveled up to the demure neckline, noting the pearl necklace at the base of her throat and the pearl earrings dangling at her ears. He held her gaze, noting how her expression changed from unsure to proud before she smiled at his nod of approval. He swept his gaze over her pale makeup and along the line of her upswept hair. She came closer and took the hand he held out for her, squeezing it before he closed his fingers around it. She smiled and took the single white canna lily he handed her, gazing up at him and making his throat go dry.

"Ready?" he croaked, and at her nod he guided her toward the desk where the justice was waiting. The two witnesses smiled approvingly as they stepped closer while he leaned down to whisper in her ear that she looked beautiful.

Her gaze glowed with happiness, taking in the dark navy suit he'd bought while she went into the department and chose her own outfit. Clasping her hand, he realized how cold it felt and gently squeezed, smiling at her as he straightened and listened to the details. Feeling somewhat removed from this present reality, he still felt dazed even though he listened and repeated what they'd decided to promise each other. Then they both signed their licenses and he slipped the envelope into his breast pocket. Gazing down at his new wife, he noted the misty dew in her expression and slipped his arms around her. She looked up and closed her eyes as he kissed her to the soft applause of their witnesses.

Then they turned away from the empty desk and made their way out, officially closing the offices for the night before they walked down the long corridor toward the exit, clothing bags draped over their arms. Once they were outside he lifted his hand and hailed a taxi, glancing down at her while they waited for it to stop.

"Where would you like to go?" he asked her, relieved that she had no hesitation. He nodded her choice of the hotel across the river which had the best view of the city. Then he leaned down and kissed her cheek, leaning past her to open the back door.

After she'd climbed in he rounded the back of the cab and got in on the other side, leaning forward to give the driver their destination. Then he draped their things along his side of the seat, finally settling back and taking her hand in his. She rested her head against his shoulder as he leaned their hands atop his thigh and studied her profile. Their driver was thankfully silent, giving them time to accustom themselves to the fact that they were now husband and wife. Strangely enough, he no longer felt that he was in a dream from which he'd soon awaken. No, this was real. He noted the glint of the gold band on his left finger and was strangely at peace for once. All because of her.

Turning slightly, he put his hand beneath her chin, gently nudging it up to study her face. She blinked back moist lashes and smiled before he paused, then leaned closer to gently kiss her.

"You ok?" he asked gently, noting her nod. She sighed and gripped his hand tighter as they nudged through traffic toward the bridge.

"I'm just a little nervous," she admitted after a moment, glancing up at him.

"Nervous, with _me?_" he said gently, cracking a smile. "We must have exchanged bodies back there."

"I can't help it," she whispered, smiling despite herself. "You're not?"

"Nooo way," he answered, shaking his head. Then he pursed his lips. "Frankly, for once I feel completely calm. Weird, huh?"

She slapped his leg playfully. "No, not weird—it's just not how I expected to feel."

He studied her a moment. "You're worrying about work again," he predicted, leaning back with a sigh. "Then it's time to leave your resignation."

"Yeah right," she quipped, shaking her head. Eyeing him, she smiled shyly. "I'm sorry—it has nothing to do with you—"

"Ah but it does," he sighed. "Now it's _my_ job to get you out of there—the sooner the better."

By the time the elevator doors closed he'd had enough. Punching the button for the top floor he turned and eyed his new wife. Her eyes were wide and desperate, which he took as a signal before he swept her back into his arms. Lifting a hand to grasp the back of her head, he kissed her hard and felt the answering hunger in her. She gripped his shoulders as he drew her up against him, pleased by her little gasp of pleasure before she twined her arms around his neck and met his kisses with her own teasing and delectable nips at his lips. He smiled against her lips, slipping his arm low to lift her higher. Her heel dug into the back of his calves as he tried to concentrate on how many chimes there were to their floor. God help them if the car stopped before they arrived, the doors parting to reveal their admittedly obvious honeymoon status.

"Kiss me harder," she ordered softly on a laugh as he fingers opened the buttons of his shirt.

"I want you so bad," he choked before obeying, though he felt the car slowing down. "Almost there, princess," he sighed, easing her back down his length. He glanced up and saw their floor was neck, glancing at her with a smile."Make sure we're decent."

She blushed, shrugging to tug up the neckline of her dress higher before patting at her hair.

"By the way, you look gorgeous," he croaked, pursing his lips as they slid to a halt. He held out his hand, which she gripped as he tugged her through the doors.

Glancing around, he found the hallway empty. She walked at his side and leaned against the wall while he pulled the key card from his jacket pocket. It clicked and the green light lit before he pushed it open and waited for her to enter. They he stopped short.

"Hold on," he ordered, moving to sweep her into his arms as she bit back a shout of protest. Grasping his shoulders, she glanced down at him as he stepped back out into the hall.

"Birkhoff what are you doing?"she laughed softly, leaning her temple against his.

"We're going to do this properly," he answered, kissing her lingeringly before carrying her back into the room. He turned while she leaned down to lock the door, which he had made sure had the "Do Not Disturb" sign facing the hall.

"All set," she breathed, releasing her hold on him.

"Wait a second," he interrupted, carrying her over toward the king sized bed. "Check it out," he smirked before tossing her gently onto the bed.

She laughed, reaching over to swipe at him but he ducked out of the way, standing with his arms crossed as he nodded toward the bed. "Check it out—too soft or too hard, we're getting another room."

Kneading the mattress, she nodded. "Just right—and it's a pillow top."

"Good," he sighed before reaching for her foot. Slipping off her heel, he lifted her other foot and did the same, keeping a grip on her ankle before he lifted her toes with a suggestive smile.

"What are—?"she giggled as he kissed her foot, sliding his hand up her calf until she squeaked in mock outrage. "Don't tell me you have a foot fetish?" she gasped, pulling her leg out of reach.

His brows shot ups. "You tell me," he shrugged, watching her jump up to stand before him. Then he wrapped his arms around her. "Come here, woman."

She slipped into his arms, and they kissed slowly and deliberately. The sun was setting and by the time he remembered to close the drapes he guided her over to look out at the skyline, guiding her back against him as he held her. Resting his chin atop her head, he heard her soft sigh.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, smoothing a hand along his forearm.

He tightened his grip on her, suddenly flooded with emotions he couldn't distinguish beyond happiness and grief. His life fast forwarded before him and stopped at this moment, and he sensed that they were meant to be together. It was no accident, and everything they'd suffered had brought them here.

"I love you, you know," he said simply, his eyes on the swirled golden lights spread out over the heavens.

Her hand stopped its slow stroke over his arm. Easing herself from his embrace, she turned to face him. Her eyes were beautiful, luminous in the sunset. Felt her hands at his waist, beneath his opened shirt. The light brought out dark auburn highlights in her hair, framing her pale face with color. Her lips parted, revealing the flash of her beautiful white teeth.

"I love you," she whispered, smiling an otherworldly smile which captivated him. He swallowed, caught in her gaze and finding himself a very willing captive.

Smiling back, inspiration filled him with a flood of what he guessed might be joy. "Mind if I turn off the lights?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head. "Not at all," she breathed, and when he turned to do so she followed, stopping by the bed. "Then I'll need your help with this zipper," she added matter of factly.

His hand swept down over the switches and the room darkened but was gilded by the golden-purple glow from the sunset. Glancing out the windows, he noted how the skyline darkened, white lights twinkling from the office windows across the Hudson River. Going to her side, he rested his hands at the base of her neck, bending his head to kiss her bare shoulder.

"Glad to oblige," he sighed, noting her little shiver of a response before he kissed the hair by her ear.

She straightened, waiting while he slowly slid the zipper of her dress down. Reaching back, she touched the side of his hip while he gently parted the back of her dress. Slipping a hand inside, he touched the warm skin of her back and closed his eyes. Her skin felt so soft.

Then she turned and eyed him, slowly sliding her hands beneath his tee shirt to encircle his low back. He bent his head and caught her lips, kissing her teasingly until she reached for his belt and began the slow choreographed dance of their first time together.

_**Alex gripped his head, gently lifting it from her chest to study him closely.**_ Finally starting to catch his breath, he opened his eyes and sighed lustily. His arms slid from beneath her back to her shoulders as he lifted her just enough to capture her lips in another slow kiss.

"Are you alright?" she sighed, her body still singing and alive with the pleasure he'd given her. Pleasure she'd never felt before in her life.

"Never been better," he drawled, moving to his side and taking her with him. They were still joined together, his body inside hers, strong and sure. He nudged his head into his pillow, wrapping his arms around her.

Nestling her forehead beneath his jaw, she traced the muscled contours of his chest, now damp with perspiration. His scent was pleasing, and as she ran her fingers down his ribs and over his hip he sighed as his breathing evened out.

"You had to work awfully hard," she said carefully, feeling guilty for the efforts he'd had to expend in order to finally bring her to completion. Despite her protests and excuses that she was a tough case he'd persisted, refusing to find his own release until she'd finally soared with pleasure under his patient labors. "I'm sorry I took too long…"

He tilted his head back, opening his eyes to squint at her in disapproval. "Is that guilt I hear in your voice? If so I never want to hear it again," he sighed, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. "Believe me, I thoroughly enjoyed myself," he said with a throaty chuckle.

"Oh yeah?" she shot back in mock outrage, laughing as she hit him with one of the small pillows. "Well so did I, but you look so exhausted, like you just ran a marathon—"

"Oh I am," he assured her, grabbing the second pillow from her grasp before she could hit him. With a laugh of triumph he tossed it across the room before rising up over her, pinning her down and eyeing her with a warning look. "I'm totally exhausted and worn out from you—want to try it again?"

"Ooooh, you scoundrel!" she laughed, wrestling with him until he flipped onto his back and pulled her up over him, holding her in his arms until she met his silent command to kiss him. Touching his lips with hers, she began to tease his lips until he loosened his grip.

"Well?" he sighed, lifting his brows suggestively. "You up for another round, wife?"

She gaped at him in surprise, twining her fingers through his hair. "But I thought guys couldn't—you know, I thought guys had to wait a little while."

"Not this guy," he sighed proudly, his eyes twinkling. "I've been waiting way too long for a woman like you, and we've only got the weekend to be together."

"Oh," she sighed, shifting against him and smiling in response. "I see…in that case," she whispered, kissing him teasingly.

"That's my girl," he replied, shifting his hands through her hair as he kissed her back.

When her cell phone started to vibrate they ignored it, Birkhoff guiding her up and above him as he watched her every expression, obviously as good of a student as he'd been a teacher. She heard the phone continue to pulse but was too wrapped up in him to care. By the time he switched positions with her she was lost in a haze of pure sensation, drowning in his loving whispers and the power of his touch.

_**Nikita eyed Michael, who watched her expectantly.**_ She shrugged and spoke to Alex's voice mail, tugging her suitcase after Michael's as they wove through the crowded airport.

"Hey, it's me—we're back finally. Where are you, anyway? I've been trying to reach you all day. Anyway, hope everything's ok with you and nerd. We're leaving baggage claim now, so I'll see you guys in an hour ok? And just for your information we're starving. If you haven't cooked maybe ask Birkhoff to do his magic takeout order, same as last time? See you later!"

She sighed off and waited at Michael's side for the next cab, shivering in the stiff breeze.

"You get in touch?" he asked, lifting his hand for the next cab, who ignored him and sped by.

"Not yet," she sighed, shaking her head. "Wonder what those two are up to now?"

He smirked. "Let's just hope Birkhoff hasn't flown the coop yet…he's certainly not the domestic type."

She nodded. "I'm surprised he hung around this long," she agreed. "Then again, maybe after all he's been through he'll sit back and enjoy Alex's company. She certainly enjoys _his_."

"Nah," Michael sighed in relief as a cab pulled up to their side. "It's just a school girl crush—she'll get over it."

"Don't say that!" Nikita laughed, hauling her suitcase toward the trunk of the cab. "Seymour has charm, I'll admit. And he's awfully cute, by the way."

"Cute?" Michael snorted, eyeing her as if she'd gone insane. "You can't be referring to Birkhoff!"

"But he's a very attractive guy—"

"Don't remind me! You two used to be outrageous flirts," he complained.

"Maybe I was serious," she teased, eyeing him meaningfully. "We had to have something to keep us going, Michael."

"Spare me," he laughed, reaching for her suitcase to stow it in the trunk next to his. "Let's get in—then we'll talk about our friend Seymour."

_c. 2011 by Christine Levitt_


	16. Ch 16 Back To Work

_**Ch 16 Back to Work **_

_**Alex stopped short, eyeing Birkhoff's computer lab with shock and disbelief. **_Everything had been cleared out, the shelves and workstations gone and the place where his sofa and video console had stood empty. Overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of loss, it dawned on her that no longer could she look forward to seeing him or hearing his voice at any given point of her workday. He was gone, and by the looks of things it seemed Division was eager to move on without him. Ever since signing in at the gate she'd noticed how busy things had gotten here, even overhearing two recruits complain how boring their new computer teacher was without even mentioning or questioning Birkhoff's absence. Operations seemed to be running smoothly in the hands of his co-workers, but her first stop there was cold and lifeless without him. She'd wanted to cry out in protest "what's the matter with you people?" and chastise the powers that be for how they'd treated him. Instead she'd held her tongue, fearful of arousing any suspicion concerning her feelings for him.

_Forget it, _a voice warned within her. _He's your husband now, and tonight he's picking you up to take you home with him._

She glanced over at the place where he'd sat pounding his brow in frustration as he worked on the problem with the black boxes. Echoes of his conversation with the engineer reverberated in her mind, though the silence of the cavernous room was broken only by the quiet hum of his dorm refrigerator. This was where she'd spied on them, and eventually seen Birkhoff's face transform with a sudden wide smile that had taken her breath away. Yet when she thought of what had happened to the engineer and how he'd reacted she shuddered at the memory.

Switching her thoughts to their goodbye this morning, she smiled at a much more pleasant memory of watching him sleep, his expression relaxed and making him look much younger. In the pre-dawn light she'd bent to kiss him gently on the lips, but he'd stirred and smiled up at her with a sleepy expression. While he'd stretched she'd stood watching, overcome with a joy that was foreign to her. In that moment she'd realized that they were a family now, and that they belonged to each other—which had made it even harder to leave him for work. He'd caught her hand and held it, closing his eyes with a sigh while she barely resisted the urge to lie back down next to him.

"See you Friday," he'd whispered, a faint smile at the corners of his mouth. She'd planted her hand upon his bare chest and kissed him again, whispering "til then" before straightening and turning to leave.

Sighing softly, she wondered how she'd make it through the rest of the week until she could meet him. Just a few days spent with him had changed her forever, and she didn't know how to readjust.

"I see you found your way down," Amanda stated, startling her. Turning abruptly, she stared at her new boss' face, unlit behind a cold smile.

"Yeah, after a few wrong turns," she stated with a shrug. "The guard's directions weren't very accurate."

Amanda frowned. "What guard?" she demanded softly, tilting her head to study her. "This is a restricted area, off limits even to Security. I expected you to pull up the blueprints on your monitor and find your way without anyone else knowing."

"I'm sorry, I was running a little late—traffic, you know," she lied, hoping she wasn't blushing at the memory of what she and her new husband had done an hour before she had to leave for work.

"Which guard directed you here?" Amanda repeated, her mouth still pinched in disapproval.

"The one manning Operations," she answered, trying not to flinch beneath that cold gaze. "I figured he was ok to ask, so I explained the fact that you wanted me to meet you here in the clean lab. He said he'd never heard of it, but if it really existed it must be on sublevel C, and here I am," she smiled, holding up her hands in surrender, "reporting for duty as usual."

"I see," Amanda mused, her eyes firing with banked emotion before her gaze swept the room. "Well as you can see we've made some changes here at Division."

"I see that."

Amanda eyed her suspiciously. "I assume you've heard of Percy's unfortunate demise?"

She nodded. "Yeah, it was running in a loop on the flat screen in the lobby—do you know who did it?"

Amanda shrugged. "That, I'm afraid, is something no one will ever know. He had many enemies so your guess is as good as mine. But I'm in charge now, and I've begun overhauling everything, including staff—which leads me to the point of our little meeting..."

Alex studied her expression, trying not to be intimidated by the fact that Amanda towered over her on her 4" heels. "What's on your mind?"

Amanda smiled in such as way as to make her skin crawl. "A new personnel policy, for one thing. You see, unlike Percy I'm much more interested in interpersonal relationships. One glaring discrepancy which I'm intending to correct is management's relationship with Operations. I've decided to work more closely with Birkhoff from now on, hence the move of this lab up to the same level as Operations. When he returns from leave I'm calling a meeting with all Operations staff to go over the changes."

Telling herself to act normal she frowned in response. "Birkhoff's on leave again?" she complained, shaking her head. _If she feels guilty about what she did to help Percy whip him, it sure didn't show._

"He needed it," Amanda explained. "Percy never understood him, I'm afraid. Just because Birkhoff has advanced intelligence and skill doesn't mean he's a machine. All that stress and lack of rest takes its toll on a person."

"I'll bet," she croaked, managing to keep the bitterness from her tone. Turning away so that Amanda couldn't see how angry she felt, she walked toward the refrigerator and bent to open it. Empty. "So why meet here if the place is going to be empty?"

"Ah but it's not going to stay that way," Amanda smiled, coming to her side. "I'd like to redesign it, and I've decided to have you head up a committee of recruits to plan and decorate a rec hall. You know, a place where they can relax and have some fun during free time. As you can see, it's quite a large space and offers a home away from home so to speak. Your operating budget will be substantial, if that makes the job any more appealing."

"But I'm living off-site now, scheduled for field ops," she sighed, glancing around the room as if interested in the project. "I'm not sure how I'd find the time."

"You can begin by holding interviews," Amanda encouraged. "I've already run a background data search and have a list of the most creative and qualified recruits. All you have to do is choose the committee, appoint a chairperson and oversee the work from time to time. I can keep watch myself, but I really feel that putting you in this mentoring role will be beneficial for all. The recruits respond well to you and it could be a creative outlet for you. Certainly your field work will take priority _after_ your new position in Operations of course."

Alex eyed her closely. "What new position?"

Amanda crossed her arms and smiled. "I want you to be Birkhoff's executive assistant while I oversee things. I plan on being very closely attuned with Operations from now on. His lab is already in the process of being set up next to Operations, so that he won't have to come all the way down here for performing diagnostics and analyses. We'll all work together in closer proximity. Furthermore, in his absence I need you to take charge."

Horrified at the changes in her status now that she was planning on getting out, Alex shook her head. "I really think you need to get someone more qualified for the job. I have to be honest about that."

Amanda stiffened a bit though she smiled coolly. "Birkhoff trained you and recommended you very highly to me, as did the other techs in Operations."

"But I've only worked there a few days—"

"Don't worry, once Birkhoff's rested and back on the job he'll continue your training. You'll see, things will run much more smoothly," Amanda reassured her. "By the way I think it was very unfortunate that Percy canceled the engineer—he and Birkhoff had already forging what seemed to be a solid friendship, one that could have benefitted Division immensely. I believe friendship has been sorely lacking here, although you and Birkhoff seem to work well together. I'd like to encourage cooperative interactions and friendships among staff and so benefit Division and everyone who is part of it."

"He is a friend," Alex admitted carefully. "I do have one question though, knowing how particular he is about his equipment. Won't he rather have been in charge of the move, and this kind of change?"

"Oh I'm not worried about how he'll react," Amanda smiled. "Granted, he may be upset at first that he wasn't here to supervise—he does have a bit of a temper, which I'm sure you've noticed."

She nodded. "Yeah, especially when he's teaching class."

"I'm sure he'll adjust given time. You can help him make the transition, Alex, as his friend. But let's worry about that when it comes up. We need to get back upstairs so that I can announce your promotion to the others in Operations."

"Fine," she sighed, following her toward the door. "I don't have any field work scheduled for this week."

"Well that may change," Amanda stated, pulling open the door. "By the way, how's the new apartment?"

"Fine…I love it," she smiled, picturing instead her new husband sleeping naked in their hotel suite. "I still need more time to organize things and finish unpacking."

"Of course—in fact, finish out the week and take Monday and Tuesday off," Amanda ordered with a smile as they started down the hall. "Don't worry—you'll be busy with field work soon enough."

"Really? I can take the time off?"

Amanda eyed the elevators and nodded. "Of course—Birkhoff should be back that Wednesday as well."

"Thanks," Alex smiled, suddenly inspired. "You know, I always thought you should be running Division, instead of Percy."

Amanda eyed her, looking pleased. "Really?" she breathed, her expression softening. "That's nice to hear, Alex."

"This place needs a woman's touch," she added, leaning forward to press the Up button. "You've always made me feel at home here," she lied.

"I'm glad you feel that way, Alex," she nodded as the chimes pinged and the doors opened. They stepped inside and stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the doors close before they started up.

"Division has a whole new future," Amanda stated, eyeing her. "Percy was out of control, always going off on tangents and distracted by his greed for power. I on the other hand intend to steer Division back into its safe harbor. I think everyone will be much more satisfied, don't you?"

Alex forced a smile and glanced back up at the floor indicators. "I'm sure they will."

Speeding toward Operations they waited in silence, Alex reminding herself that this was only temporary. In just a few nights she would rendezvous with Birkhoff at a midtown parking garage, where he'd pick her up and take her to their new home. Then she would finally be free of Division, if their plans went accordingly. Her spirits lifted in anticipation, though she missed him even more than she had imagined. It was going to be wonderful, staring a new life together—a life of freedom, for a change.

_**Birkhoff planted his hands on his hips, sighing as he took final inventory. **_Two days had passed since he'd passed papers and taken ownership of the house. All orders had been placed and delivery of all their furnishings had been accomplished. He'd set up the security system and installed the components for Shadownet and Shadowbox until full operations were already humming. But he'd slept poorly and caught himself talking to himself, so Alex's return couldn't come too soon for him. Exhausted and missing his new wife, he could hardly wait to pick her up in the city and bring her back home with him tonight—for good.

"Wait till you see this place, Princess," he murmured, strolling toward the windows to enjoy the view. Squinting into the sunlight, he noticed streaks of pollen along the upper edges of the bulletproof glass and made a mental note to put in a call to have them washed. Interrupted by the angry growl of his stomach, he realized he hadn't eaten since early morning and turned to grab the phone. Strolling into the kitchen area, he picked it up and punched out the number of the cleaning service.

"Ah yeah, this is Daniel Cahn," he stated, amazed that they'd answered in person. "Yes, the new client… yeah, the place looks great. I _did_ happen to notice that the windows need a good washing—you do exteriors?"

He listened to the pause, wincing when he was quoted the price. "Ah, that's a little high…no one else in the area, huh?...ok fine—let's do it. When do you think you can get here? …No tomorrow morning's too late. It's gotta be today."

_Don't want anything interrupting our reunion, _he thought with a smile. After all, they were technically still on their honeymoon. Bad enough that Alex still had to report in to Division the rest of the week.

He listened to the suggested dates, sighing in relief when they promised to come and leave before dark.

"Good. I appreciate it…yes, I'll be waiting. See you soon."

Signing off, he glanced back at the dark forest beyond their floor-to-ceiling windows. Just then his stomach growled again. "Ok I need to eat, and I don't suppose anyone will be delivering up here," he realized, regretting that one inconvenience of living far above the town. "Guess it's time to check out the buttery."

Pulling open the refrigerator door, he reached for a bottle of ale and unscrewed the cap, quenching his thirst with a few swallows as he eyed the sparse supplies he'd picked up after getting the house keys.

"Scrambled eggs it is," he declared, taking out the egg carton and margarine container. Opening the sliding drawer he pulled out a package of grated extra sharp cheddar and the milk, setting everything on the counter. Turning on the burner, he set out the omelet pan and searing it with a bit of margarine, mixing the ingredients while it warmed up.

As he prepared his one meal he noted the silence of the house, feeling lonely again when normally it wouldn't have bothered him. He'd been single for so long it surprised him that Alex's absence bothered him so much. But now that he'd tasted the nectar of her kiss and made love to her he was hooked. It had been hard to sleep alone since enjoying the pleasures of married life, though Alex called him every night since they'd been separated, talking long into the night until her voice sounded too sleepy. She said she missed him too, and he had to admit the sound of her voice had been somewhat of a comfort. But he had also been a frustrating, its arousing huskiness making him toss and turn for hours afterward. Maybe they shouldn't have exchanged so many ideas on how to demonstrate how much they'd missed each other once they were back together again.

Clearing his throat and forcing his mind to the present, he slid the eggs onto a plate and reached for a fork. Strolling toward the windows he started eating his lonely dinner, picturing her working for Amanda and heading up operations in his presumed temporary absence. The thought of her being there, even with Percy gone, made him worry and pray that she'd finally get out safe without anybody suspecting their connection. He'd made sure that her new identity remained hidden and uncompromised, her old one prematurely entered into the canceled agents list but coded until he unblocked its security. The false tracker he'd sent into the mainframe was operating from the watch he'd given her, into which he'd embedded a new signaling code to cover her while at Division and prevent anyone from discovering that she was in reality offline. When her first op came up she'd make a break for it, never returning. They had yet to plan her so-called demise while out in the field. He only hoped they'd send her to some less sophisticated intelligence community and make it easier.

"We'll get you covered, Princess," he whispered, setting aside his plate as he saw the van drive up to the gate. Pressing the buzzer, he opened it and stepped out onto the deck to watch their approach. The van pulled up and stopped while he watched. Two college-aged guys climbed out, looking up to salute him before climbing up to unhook their ladders. They'd need scaffolding to reach the higher level, but judging by their quick movements it wouldn't take them long. He waved backhandedly and went back inside to clean up. As soon as they finished he'd start out, eager to collect Alex and bring her home.

_**Nikita stared at her monitor, hardly believing what she was seeing. **_Her heart thumped wildly as she smiled and slowly got up. Blindly reaching for her cell phone, she felt for the speed dial number and hit it, waiting as he eyes scanned the breadth of the monitor. The ringing stopped after two rings, then clicked to transfer to voice mail.

Frowning and pulling the phone from her ear, she stared at the number displayed on its screen, listening to his bored-tone outgoing message.

"Dammit!" she hissed, smiling despite herself at his message.

"You've reached Shadownet—yeah right, just kidding—this is Birkhoff. If you are so inclined leave a message and I _might _get back to you, depending on my current mood. Telemarketers be warned: if you have a recorded message for me or speak with background static you will experience a reverse call deletion tone, happily blocking you from calling this number ever again. _Adios amigos!_"

"Ok Nerd, now that you've had your fun call me back," she ordered good-naturedly. "And don't ignore me again—we've been trying to reach you for almost a week and no kidding—I will track you down if you don't."

Hanging up, she sighed and leaned both hands on the edge of the desk, studying the poor quality motion-capture image with a surge of hope. "I've got some work for you to do, Seymour and trust me you'll find it very rewarding."

Owen had met with her briefly just this morning, stating he had a hunch about who was going to replace Percy, now that the guardians were without a direct supervisor. They were scheduled to meet tomorrow night, making contact with a legal representative who held in hand Percy's last will and testament. Owen was sure that his replacement would be named, and no doubt it would be one of the members of Operations. He also suspected Roan of being the hit man, especially since the cleaner had more or less disappeared from the face of the earth without a trace despite the guardian's efforts to locate him.

Michael was finishing his last day at Division before flying to Istanbul on field op, and would be calling her before his flight. She tried picturing him at the new Division, no doubt suffering through one of Amanda's lectures right about now. Shaking her head, she decided not to risk contacting him until things had settled down there. Alex had been in touch with her via the shell program, gushing on and on about Birkhoff's surprisingly good qualities as a husband, which only made her feel weird and old. But she was happy for her and hoped she got safely to his new house without attracting any attention. Now all she had to do was get that address, which so far neither of them was willing to share.

"But this is our chance to find out who's involved with Operations," she whispered, enhancing the video until it was suitable to print. No, she wasn't about to let this opportunity slip by even if it meant disturbing the newlyweds and not having Michael's help.

Hitting the Print button, she glanced out the windows in surprise, not having noticed the sun was setting. Had she been searching that long on the computer? Noting the time, she glanced at her silent phone and prayed Birkhoff would call back. Or else she'd have to find out where he was picking Alex up and barge in on their reunion.

_**Alex smiled happily, hitting the lock on her car while walking toward the black BMW parked in the indicated space. **_The headlights shone on her, making her a little self-conscious as she approached the car. The dark tinted window rolled down and she saw his face, eyes locked with hers and his lips threatening a smile. Veering around the front, she stopped at the passenger side and pulled open the door. He waited while she climbed in and shut it, turning to face him with a sigh of relief.

"Hi there," he said huskily, his eyes darkening as the interior lights faded. She felt his hand grasp hers tightly as she leaned toward him, lifting her other hand to grip his shoulder. Then she was kissing him, sliding her fingers into his hair as he released her hand and cupped her jaw. They kissed and kissed until she was completely out of breath and pulled back to look at him.

"Hi yourself," she whispered, feeling his hand touch her knee.

"God, I missed you," he groaned, kissing her again.

"Me too," she admitted to him, kissing him back and laughing. "I can't believe it's only been three days."

"Longest three days I've ever lived through," he chuckled, leaning his head back on the headrest but still turned toward her. "You made it through almost a week of the New Division," he sighed, his eyes devouring her features.

"Let's get out of here," she breathed, fastening her seatbelt as he lifted his head and shifted into gear.

"Good idea," he agreed, glancing back over at her. "I'll have my work cut out for me, trying to keep my eyes on the road."

She laughed softly, leaning toward him and resting her head on his shoulder. "I love your car, but almost wish it didn't have bucket seats."

He reached for her hand, holding it atop his thigh as he pulled out onto the street. "Unfortunately it's built mostly for speed, comfort second." He gasped when she slid her hand down his thigh and leaned closer.

"Can we go somewhere?" she breathed against his ear, eager to feel his arms around her and his body against hers.

"I'm sorely tempted, my love," he sighed, glancing her way. "But it might be better to christen our cozy little home which awaits your arrival."

"But I can't wait that long," she teased, smoothing her hand across his lower abdomen.

He grabbed it and lifted it to his lips, kissing her knuckles as he drove toward the highway. "We'll be home in less than two hours—that is if I make it at all, given your current method of torture."

She smiled, sliding her hand up his chest before pulling it back. "Don't think of it as torture, think of it as foreplay," she said just above a whisper.

He choked back a laugh, pressing the accelerator and speeding onto the interstate. "I'm afraid we've been apart too long for that to be needed," he admitted, glancing her way with a lecherous grin. "But I know exactly how you feel."

She leaned back, studying his profile. "You look tired, but delicious nonetheless."

He shook his head. "I couldn't sleep, thanks to you. Telephone sex might help next time."

"Daniel!" she gawked, laughing anyway. "Actually, we came pretty close to it a few times."

"Yeah well it wasn't quite enough to do anything but cause more frustration," he stated, veering off onto toward the connecting overpass.

They drove on, weaving through heavy traffic as he avoided getting near the 18 wheelers. As they headed north the traffic spread out and they settled into a comfortable silence, though he reached for her hand and squeezed it. She wound her fingers through his and held on, her eyes tracing the beloved outlines of his profile.

"Two hours, huh?"

"That's right," he sighed, glancing at her a moment. "Trust me, it'll be worth the wait—you'll see."

"Ok, if you say so," she replied, sliding her fingers over his muscled thigh, "why don't you tell me about the house?"

He smiled, transferring her wandering hand back to his knee. "Only if you promise not to distract me like that," he said.

"I'm sorry," she said without really meaning it. "I can't seem to help myself, Daniel."

"Sweetheart, you have no idea what I'm keeping myself from doing," he teased.

"Yeah but you're older and more diligent with self-control."

He shouted out a laugh, glancing at her. "You kidding? It's _because _I'm older that I'm having a harder time. Don't be fooled by my iron will, Princess."

"Stop that!" she cried, slapping his knee. "You're always saying how old and decrepit you are—"

"Ah but I am, child!" he laughed, grabbing her hand. To her surprise he swerved into the next lane and quickly drove down the exit ramp. "In fact, I feel my time is running out."

"Birkhoff what are you _doing_?" she croaked, holding onto the handrail as he put on the brakes at the end of the ramp, then turned right abruptly.

"I have a sudden urge to get out of the car," he warned, an evil smile curling his lips.

"Where are we going? I thought you said we needed to get to the house—"

"Just a quick stop," he reassured her, pulling into a plaza and parking the car. "Trust me, you'll thank me later."

"But I don't have to go to the bathroom," she smiled when he came around to her side and opened the door for her.

"Surely you'd like something to drink, for the road?" he said politely, helping her out and locking the car.

She followed him into a small restaurant and looked around at the half-full dining room. A hostess came up to them with a smile.

"Dinner for two?" she asked, picking up two menus.

"Actually I'd like to order something to go," he smiled, stunning her with his charm.

"That's fine," she nodded, nodding toward the waiting area in the foyer as he glanced at the menu.

Leaning toward her, he whispered something about trusting him and checked if meatless lasagna would be ok. She nodded, feeling a rush of heat at his closeness. "Can we get raspberry iced tea?"

"Of course," he whispered, gesturing toward the girl. "We'd like two vegetarian lasagna dinners, with a side of garlic bread, please."

She scribbled into her book and glanced up. "Drinks?"

"One raspberry iced tea and one diet ginger ale," he added.

"Ok, but it will take at least 20 minutes," she warned with a smile. "Make yourselves at home—I'll let you know when it's ready."

"Great," he breathed, taking her hand and walking down the hall to the waiting area. Glancing around, he noted the restroom sign and nodded toward it. "Ok we've got 20 minutes—let's go."

A bit distracted by his devilish smile, she followed him down another hall which opened into a foyer, men's, women's and family changing rooms adjacent to it.

"I'll wait here while you check it out," he said quietly, nodding toward the ladies' room and releasing her hand.

"But I don't have to—"

"It's our only chance, Princess," he said, bending to kiss her cheek. There was a teasing glint in his eye, and she felt herself blush.

"You don't mean," she whispered back just as someone came out of the ladies' room. He smiled enigmatically, his eyes following the woman's retreat and returning to hers meaningfully.

"Alright, but if we get caught you're doing the talking," she whispered, shoving open the door.

"I'll be waiting," he answered, shoving his hands in his pockets as he strolled toward the telephone, his eyes on hers.

She shook her head and went in, finding a remarkably clean restroom with 12 stalls, the far one a handicapped one. With a glance at herself in the mirror, she started back toward the door. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this," she murmured, opening it and gesturing toward him.

He glanced around before ducking inside. She led toward the far end as he hooked his arm around her waist. Pushing the stall door open, she went in and turned to watch as he locked it behind them. His arms pulled her close as he kissed her with sudden intent. Grasping his lapels, she felt his arm lower to her hips as he pulled her up against him, taking her breath away. His other hand parted her coat and slid inside, his mouth claiming hers as he touched her with blind intent, making her burn with hunger for his possession. There was a small sink in the large unit, which he lifted her back onto before stepping close. She pulled up his shirt and ran her hands up his back, feeling the scars as she kissed him back.

"I've dreamt of this moment," he whispered between kisses, "but without the mundane setting."

She laughed, gripping his waist and welcoming his advances. "I don't care—just come inside."

When he did they stilled, gasping in wonder and delight. Passion flooded her gut with an instant burst of satisfaction as she held him in her arms. His lips touched the side of her neck as she threw her head back and gripped him tight. Her back pressed into the faucet but she didn't care, so overwhelmed by his skillful handling of her that she could only rejoice. Then his mouth was on hers again and she lost all coherent thought. After what must have been a quarter of an hour she lifted his head, stared into his eyes and smiled.

"That was exciting," she choked, loving the peace she saw in his expression and thinking he was the most attractive man in the world.

"Thought you'd like it," he half groaned, half laughed as they began to come back to the surface of reality. "Frankly I couldn't wait either."

She giggled softly, watching him tuck his shirt back into his waistband as she straightened her own clothes. He helped her down from the sink, steadying her with his arm as she wobbled a bit on her heels. "I must say I've never done that before."

"Me neither," he chuckled, his eyes glowing with what looked like love. "This opens up a whole new realm of exploration—libraries, museums, truck stops, telephone booths—"

"Shhh!" she laughed, peering out the crack of the opened door. "Someone's coming!"

They froze, listening to the sound of teenage girls as they blew in and hit the stall doors, thankfully the ones closer to the door. Alex tugged him until he realized what she wanted, then sat on the sink counter so that only one set of feet showed in case anyone checked.

It took another five minutes before they'd washed their hands, fixed their lipstick and combed out their hair all the while jabbering about some boy and girl who'd just started going out. Alex hugged him as he dropped his head to her shoulder, his arms loosely holding her as they waited.

When silence followed their departure, they snuck out of the stall, neared the door and waited while she checked the foyer. Waving for him to follow, they walked nonchalantly back toward the dining room, the hostess looking up when she saw them. Her eyes traveled quickly over their faces and clothing before a tiny smile appeared on her lips.

"Your order is ready," she stated, patting the large brown paper bag she took from the warming bag. "That'll be $25 plus tax."

She watched as he pulled out his wallet and took out $40, handing it to the hostess. "Keep the change," he said in a more subdued voice, nodding to her as he lifted the take out bag. "Thanks."

She smiled happily, her eyes resting on Alex's embarrassed grin. "Thank _you_," she replied, folding her arms as she watched them head toward the door.

Alex pushed it open and they were outside again, breathing a sigh of relief. She laughed, watching him balance the bag and pull out his keys. "Let me hold it."

"No, I've got it," he smiled, hitting the unlock button as she opened her door. Climbing in, she accepted the bag and held it until he climbed in.

"That was close," she laughed, watching him insert the key to warm up the car.

"You can say that again," he chuckled, eyeing her meaningfully. "But fun, don't ya think?"

She leaned toward him, meeting his lips for a tentative kiss. "Thoroughly enjoyable," she sighed, leaning back and opening the bag. "I think I can manage the rest of the trip now."

"Good," he agreed, taking the bottle of ginger ale from her and opening it for a swallow. "Want to eat here?"

"No, let's get going," she decided, setting aside her bottle of iced tea. "I can feed you while you drive."

He stared at her a moment, then smiled broadly. "Now _that_ sounds like fun."

"I promise not to spill anything on you, or on your new car," she stated, prying open the foil covering the garlic bread. Inhaling slowly, she offered him a piece.

He took it, waving it toward her. "That's _our _new car," he corrected before taking a bite.

She unwrapped the fork and cut into the pasta, lifting it toward him. "You don't mind sharing, do you?"

"Not at all," he smiled devilishly, "from now on we share everything, get it?"

She watched him chew the food and buckle up. "I get it," she smiled back, clipping her own belt beneath the bag. "Everything."

_c. 2012 by Christine Levitt_

13


	17. Ch 17 The Respite

_**Chapter 17 Freedom **_

_**Nikita eased off the road and pulled into the woods, eyeing the house before which Birkhoff's car pulled up.**_ Astonished at its location and half-hidden appearance, she blew out a soft whistle of appreciation.

"So this is where you've retired," she sighed, pulling up the emergency brake and killing the engine. "Very nice indeed..." Leaning over, she reached for her binoculars and lifted them to get a better view, the moonlight failing to penetrate the dense tree cover surrounding the house. Settling back, she watched him walk to the passenger side door and open it. Alex climbed out, waiting until he shut the door and hit the lock, her head tilted back to look up at him. He settled an arm over her shoulders and they turned to start up the walk. With a wistful sigh Nikita watched her arm curve around his back as Birkhoff leaned down to kiss her temple.

"Oh nerd," she breathed softly, smiling despite herself. They stopped at the door and he turned to Alex, the white flash of his smile accompanying his reaching into his pocket for the keys. He opened the door and bent to pick Alex up. Her soft protest and laugh echoed toward Nikita as she curled her arms around his neck. He carried her over the threshold and into the house, turning on the lights.

Lowering the binocs Nikita sighed tiredly. "I'm happy for you both," she whispered. "I hope you get to live happily ever after—you certainly deserve it."

Her cell phone buzzed suddenly and she glanced down, recognizing the caller. Scooping it up, she flipped it open with a new excitement. "Hey!"

"I wake you?" Michael's voice soothed as she leaned her head back against the headrest. Over at the house she saw the upstairs lights went on, their golden glow inviting.

"No—I'm up."

"What time is it there anyway?"

"It's only about midnight," she reassured him. "How's Istanbul?"

"Lonely without you," he yawned. "Looks like I'll be stuck here another week, at least."

"Oh no, not when I miss you this much," she protested, listening to his reassurance that it wouldn't be much longer. "So everything going ok?"

"As good as can be expected but I won't elaborate—what are you up to?"

"You'll never guess," she answered, watching the upstairs lights go off.

"Humor me, Nikita," he groaned. "I'm incredibly bored after 14 straight hours of surveillance."

"Actually I'm on a stakeout in the woods across from Birkhoff's new digs," she informed him. "You won't believe the house he bought, and where—"

"What? Wait—don't tell me you _followed_ him?"

"'Them' to be precise," she corrected without any feelings of guilt. "He picked Alex up after work and I followed them here—it's gotta be at least a 2½ hour drive from the city."

"Why on earth?" Michael hissed, surprising her. "That's beyond stalking, Nikita. You're going to have to learn to respect their privacy—"

"But Birkhoff hasn't answered any of my messages all week," she complained, "unless you count his text that read 'Do Not Disturb – Officially on Honeymoon.'"

"What about Alex—she get a chance to check in with you during the week?"

"You might say that, but all _she _does is gush on and on about what a great husband he is. I really can't get anything done, and with you away—"

"Don't you think Alex _should _be talking about him like that?" he challenged.

"Well sure, but come on—she'd only been away from him one day when she called me."

Michael sighed deeply. "Listen my love, you're going to have to accept the fact that people need time off at least once in a while—_we'd_ be in a lot better shape if we did the same."

"What? Us? But I thought we were fine!"

"We are—look don't get all worried on me...you know what I mean."

"I'm not worried but don't you realize how bad a time this is for Birkhoff to be unavailable?" she reasoned. "We still have to get you and Alex out of Division before Percy unleashes his anger again, _and_ I just happened to find a lead on the identity of one of the members of Oversight. I had to scour all the security footage I could find from their last meeting location, all without Birkhoff's help."

"Nikita, I'm warning you don't mess with Birkhoff on his time off," Michael lectured, "especially not if you want his help. And as far as Oversight is concerned I don't think you should be going after them until we have a better handle on things, and certainly not on your own."

"But we may never have this opportunity again—which is why I had to at least _ask_ him for help!"

"Yeah well now you're doing a lot more than asking. I'm warning you, if Birkhoff finds out you followed them to his place—especially when it's so obvious that wants it to remain a secret—you'll risk him having nothing more to do with you!"

"Birkhoff?" Nikita chuckled, waving a hand as she watched the downstairs lights go out. "He's like my little brother for goodness' sake, and frankly we're all he's got. I'm not worried—"

"Don't push him, Nikita," Michael insisted, his voice strained. "Look, I need to get off the phone for now but we need to talk about this, and about the future."

"What do you mean, 'the future'?" she asked, trying not to picture what Alex and Birkhoff might be doing at this very moment.

"Our future—which will no doubt include Birkhoff and Alex, unless we alienate them. Look, do us all a favor and start back home. Leave them be until Birkhoff contacts you—ok?"

"But Michael—"

"Do it for him, and for Alex," he insisted. "Right now let him enjoy his newfound freedom and don't push. He hasn't had a life for longer than either of us has."

"Alright, you win…and you're right about that, he hasn't."

"Good—now get going before they discover you were even there. Trust me, they'll respect you much more, and so will I."

"But Michael, this is our chance to get Oversight!"

"I'm not so sure that's the plan, hence the need to have that long talk."

"But if we get Oversight we get Division—which I thought _was _the plan."

"Look, just try to be patient," he pleaded. "You're not alone anymore, you have me and you have Birkhoff and Alex, assuming they don't find out you're stalking them."

"I'm not stalking!"

"I'm afraid you are, my love. Look we're going to need a team to go anywhere near Oversight OR Division, as far as I'm concerned."

"Alright, I'll try to be patient," she admitted, seeing the wisdom of his advice. "I was just so excited to find that lead."

"The more leads we get, the better," he cautioned her. "Which is why we need a cooperative effort."

"You're right," she sighed, turning the key to start the car. "But once Oversight knows we're onto them they'll have to back off."

"What, and go into deeper cover? Is that what you want, Nikita?"

She sighed. "Maybe you have a point."

"…are you driving away yet?"

"I'm warming up the car—it's cold up here in the Catskills."

"While you're doing that switch to your Bluetooth," he ordered gently. "In fact I'll wait until I hear you switch over, but make it fast—I've got work to do."

"Ok, ok!" she sighed, pressing the button of her Bluetooth and adjusting it. "There—I'm on hands-free…I'm shifting into reverse and officially on my way home—happy now?"

"Prove it—let me hear you get up some speed."

"You haven't seen this road," she complained, shifting into drive and moving back onto the pavement. "It's really steep, with hairpin turns. You can only do 20."

"Do 35, like I know you can," he chuckled. "I'm waiting."

"Alright! Make it 15…20…25…30. I'm already a half mile away."

"Good—keep going. I can hear the engine now so I'll take your word for it. Now say goodnight."

She added a few more things before signing off. The road was moonlit and deserted, and she did get it up to 35 after all. Glancing down toward the lights of the village below, she felt cold and lonely. She was tempted to check into a hotel and try Birkhoff in the morning, but then she thought of Michael's advice and decided to take it. It did go against her independent spirit and inability to work as a team for so many years, but she forced herself.

"Men!" she breathed, shaking her head at his and Birkhoff's stubborn insistence for respecting each others' privacy. But then she thought of Alex's obvious delight with married life and felt a twinge of guilt.

"Well she _is _in love with you, Nerd," she sighed, glancing in her rear view mirror and seeing no trace of his access road or hidden drive. "But you owe me for this…big time."

She drove on, passing the town and heading for the bridge. As she thought about the possible repercussions of barging in on Birkhoff she sensed that Michael was right. If they were in the same position she wouldn't want Birkhoff barging in on them, especially not on their honeymoon.

"So Michael," she sighed, reaching over to put on her jazz CD, "maybe someday we'll take your advice when we're ready for some privacy..."

_**Birkhoff caught her scent even before he felt her arms slide around his shoulders. **_Her lips touched the sensitive spot just below his left ear while her hair tumbled onto his shoulder. Lifting his fingers from the keys he leaned back, gazing up at her impish smile as she slid a hand down his chest beneath his flannel shirt. With her fingers kneading his abs beneath his tee shirt , he reached up to cup her cheek and guide her lips to his. They exchanged a slow kiss which he felt with every fiber of his being. When she sighed softly he turned the chair and gathered her into his arms, lifting her onto his lap, his programming work momentarily forgotten.

"Good morning," he sighed against her lips, curling a hand around her waist.

"Hi," she whispered, smiling as she guided his head back. He obeyed, closing his eyes as she combed her fingers into his hair. He breathed out a cleansing breath, loving her possessive touch.

"Thanks for letting me catch up on my sleep," she said in a low husky voice while massaging his temples with her thumbs.

"You're welcome," he croaked, opening his eyes as he guided her lips back to his. They shared tentative kisses and he smiled at one memory in particular. "You looked like a fairy tale princess—I didn't have the heart to disturb you."

"Why not?" she whispered, nuzzling his whiskered cheek with her lips. "I would've liked being awakened with a kiss."

He cupped her face between both hands, eyeing her meaningfully. "Because I'm no Prince Charming."

"You're not?" she frowned, leaning back to study him critically. "Could have fooled me, but whatever—  
>I think married life agrees with you, Birkhoff."<p>

"Really?" he countered, tracing a finger down the tiny buttons at the center of her eyelet gown while he held her gaze. "Why do you say that?"

"Let's see," she hedged, gently tracing her fingertips across his eyebrows. "For one thing, you don't have those little frown lines between your eyes anymore...and you seem much more relaxed."

He raised his brows. "Oh I'm far from relaxed, with you sitting on my lap like this," he stated, cupping the back of her head to bestow a firm kiss upon her lips.

She shifted on his lap, pressing closer as her arms went around his shoulders. He quickly lost himself in her kisses, totally agreeing with her assessment that married life did seem to agree with him. The chime of his download completion went pretty much unnoticed as their passion reignited. It only seemed to grown, something he'd not thought possible. Yet now even the slightest glance or fleeting touch from her made him want to drop everything just to hold her. And for that he would be eternally grateful.

"I want you so much," she panted between kisses, laughing when he began to slowly rotate the chair, one foot planted on the floor.

"Ditto," he sighed, his eyes intent on her slightest reaction. He studied her more carefully than any wiring configuration or specs sheet, looking for clues to what made her tick. And he'd found a few.

"Birkhoff, I'm starting to get a dizzy," she giggled softly as she clutched his shoulders.

"That's the plan," he sighed, rotating the chair a few more times before he stopped it abruptly. With a squeak of surprise she gripped his arms while he steadied her until she eyed him critically.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say making love is the only thing on your mind lately," she accused, one hand massaging the back of his neck.

"Then you'd be 99 and 44/100s correct," he sighed, trailing kisses toward her left ear. She shivered and closed her eyes.

"And the other fraction of time?" she sighed, her lips curling up into a smile.

"I do have to set up more programs for Shadowbot," he admitted, pulling her lips back to his for a long, lazy kiss.

"I do have one request, when you have the time," she said between kisses, her hands smoothing down his chest.

"Anything," he whispered, lifting her hair to one side to kiss her neck.

"Let's go take another shower," she teased, eyeing him soberly.

Staring into her gorgeous eyes, he thought the idea a brilliant one. "A shower—right now?"

She nodded, smoothing her hand along his cheek. "I like to wash your hair."

"I like to comb yours out," he said thickly, "that is, after I soap your gorgeous little body all over."

"Birkhoff!" she teased as he gripped her tight and suddenly stood, starting for the stairs. She squealed in surprise, wrapping her legs around him as he carried her easily.

"A shower it is, milady," he warned, a fiendish smile on his face. "I've all kinds of ways to torture you!"

"You sure?" she wondered, glancing back at his workstation. "I know I interrupted your work—"

"Fie on work!" he growled, pausing at the foot of the stairs to kiss her. "At this rate I'll never get anything done."

Her lips curl into a sexy smile. "_That's_ the plan," she admitted, tightening her arms around his shoulders.

Setting her down two steps above, he leaned forward and kissed the side of her neck, moaning with pleasure as she threw back her head to allow him access. With her at this height he didn't have to bend his head down so far to reach her. She slid her feet down the back of his thighs as he lowered her to the carpeted stairs, stretching over her. Slowly making his way back to her lips, he feasted on the nectar of her kisses and decided he'd gone to heaven yet again.

She lifted his head from her neck with a laugh. "That tickles," she accused as he stared down at her, cherishing her with his gaze and touch. She held his gaze, her breath quickening.

A jolt of electricity shot between them, and he was stunned by the feelings coursing through him. He remembered everything about her all at once in a flash, reliving the moments they'd spent at the water bottle machine when he'd returned from his field op. In her eyes he saw a welcoming warmth that shook him to the core, frightening him with its power. If they were ever separated again, he began to wonder how he'd handle it.

_You're getting too attached, hiding out here in this remote place with virtually no one around._

"Daniel, what is it?" she started to say, interrupted by the tones of her cell phone.

He glanced back over his shoulder, pursing his lips before helping her up. "Your phone's ringing."

"Ignore it," she ordered, grabbing his arms and pulling him closer. He kissed her somewhat distractedly, unable to stop his warring thoughts from doing just that. He could picture Amanda on the other end, her eyes firing with anger and suspicion at the delay in answering.

"It might be Division," he said, tugging her to her feet despite her protest. "Remember—you're supposed to be in your apartment this weekend."

She held onto him, her gaze shooting toward the counter where her phone lay, still ringing. "You're right," she sighed in frustration as she steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder before descending and heading toward it.

He watched her go, suddenly concerned. "Did you check it last night?"

"Yeah," she sighed, grabbing it up. Her eyes widened before she looked up at him while the chime of her voice mail sounded. "It's Amanda!"

"That's what I was afraid of," he said grimly, coming to her side to stare accusingly at the phone. "She leave a message?"

"Not on voice mail," she answered, pressing the envelope icon. He stepped closer, touching her back reassuringly as she opened the message.

"She's giving me an overseas assignment!" she wailed, staring up at him. "I have to leave tonight—now what do I do?"

"Dammit!" he hissed, shaking his head. "Just text her back and say your phone was charging…she say where you have to go?"

"No, just to call back immediately," she stated, pulling out the keyboard to answer. "This is terrible—I was supposed to have the next few days off!"

He checked his watch. _Already 11:30! _"Tell her that you're in the middle of moving something."

"She might suspect—or worse, send someone over to help!"

"Ok wait—relax," he ordered, reaching out to hug her close. "Whatever she wants we'll do it, but stall her as much as you can. I'll see what she's doing."

She nodded, answering back via text message while he strode back toward the computer. Closing her phone, she came toward him, watching as he sat down and quickly brought up the Division screen. And there was Amanda sitting at her desk, her face pinched with irritation and her cold eyes narrowing on a document spread out before her.

"Uh oh—the ice queen looks like she's gonna flash freeze somebody," he drawled.

She laughed, leaning close as she rested a hand on his shoulder. He brought up the other screen for Operations and shook his head. "There's poor Archie, looking frazzled as ever," he sighed. "Operations is really gonna miss me now—us, rather."

She nodded, resting her chin atop his head, her eyes on the screen. "I asked her for the op information and flight details."

"Good plan," he said distractedly, hacking into their travel site.

"Wait a minute," she warned, staring at him suspiciously. "You don't watch me while I'm there, do you?"

He glanced up at her with a grin. "'course I do," he admitted, sliding a hand around her hip to pull her closer. "I've had my eye on you for quite some time…"

"Really," she sighed more than asked, bending to plant a kiss on his cheek. Then she straightened, her saucy smile dazzling him.

"I better get busy," she warned, breaking away to head back toward the stairs. "This will have to be the world's fastest shower!"

"Hey!" he called after her. "What about our date in there?"

"Sorry—have to get a raincheck!" she shouted down, already gaining the upstairs level.

He turned back around, gazing at the monitor as he saw some tall dark dude enter Ice Queen's office. Leaning closer, he squinted at the image. "What's this? Who the hell are you?" he croaked, zooming the image.

"I told you to knock before entering my office, Sean," Amanda snarled, quickly slipping the cell phone into her desk drawer. "That's a primary rule around here, but since this is your first day I'll let it go."

"Really," he smirked, obviously unaffected by her menacing tone or the fact that she rose from her chair and crossed her arms. "I thought the New Division was one big happy family...Mom never made us knock, nor did she ever throw a rule book at us."

Amanda huffed impatiently as she came out from behind her massive white desk. "Your _mom_ could have done better by teaching you to respect your superiors."

He lifted his brows, facing her without a trace of fear. "_She's_ the only reason I'm here at all," he drawled. "I answer to her, first and foremost."

Birkhoff watched Amanda bow her head in frustration, her jaw clenching with anger. He eyed the newbie with growing suspicion. "I repeat—who the hell are you? No, better yet—who the hell is _Mom_?"

"Oversight respects my authority here," Amanda stated forcefully. "I expect you to do the same."

The Sean guy laughed, turning his back on her. "I answer to Oversight—not you."

Amanda's face gathered into an ominous storm, so much so that Birkhoff swore he could see steam rising from her head. "Whooaaa! Things are just about to get interesting!"

He glanced down at his own cell phone, remembering Nikita's prior voice mail messages. "Maybe I'll give you a call Niki, now that I've got something to tell you."

_**Amanda tilted her head to study her carefully, wondering what it was she sensed was different. **_To the uncritical eye Alex appeared cool and collected, her posture perfect, eyes unreadable. Yet there seemed to be something different about her which she couldn't quite place. At least not yet

"I trust you're getting more settled in your new place?" she asked in as pleasant a tone as she could, despite her irritation at having to wait so long for Alex to finally show. "I know this is interrupting your time off, but I think you'll appreciate the opportunity once I have a chance to explain the details."

Alex nodded curtly, finally letting out a tiny sigh. "I still have a lot of work to do, shopping especially. I've never had my own apartment before and I want to make sure everything's perfect."

"Perfection isn't really necessary, is it?" Amanda countered, noticing the wavy curls of her new hair style. "But I can imagine your needing to go out and pick up things," she granted, forcing a smile.

"I keep making lists of things I forgot," she admitted, smiling wanly. "I guess the timing's not the greatest when I'm still not that settled."

"But this is a rather unique opportunity, Alex—one I'm sure you'll look back upon and count worthy."

She shrugged noncommittally. "So what is it, do I get to fly to Paris or London? You mentioned Europe."

Amanda gestured toward the white chair facing her desk. "First why don't you have a seat? You look a little peaked if I'm not mistaken," she added, watching her closely.

Alex's gaze faltered a bit before she glanced away. "Actually I'm getting my period—you know, the whole PMS thing plus cramps."

"Ah, I see," Amanda said, wondering if she should believe her. "You never mentioned having trouble in that regard before."

Alex looked up. "It's not something I like to share," she said, forcing a grin.

"But there are medications to help… I'm sure Medical can prescribe you something."

Alex leaned back, one hand curling toward her stomach. "I've got it under control for now. So tell me—where am I going and why?"

"We've had a break in identifying those involved in the same sex trade ring under which you fell victim," she informed her. "It's strictly an undercover assignment, one in which you'll break into their network and download everything you can, as Birkhoff taught you to do in his classes."

At the mention of Birkhoff Alex seemed to stiffen, but she nodded. "Ok…that should be easy, since it's pretty familiar territory for me."

"Which is why you were selected, though you certainly deserve your time off," Amanda stated. "But unfortunately this can't wait, as you're well aware. There is a group of girls being held for deportation, which you will join and travel with. Once you reach St. Petersburg you'll be directed to their main offices there—we have someone in place in Immigration who will need a photo of you in order to make the contact. Come back and I'll take one, once you're ready to go."

Alex nodded. "Ok—what time do I hit the holding cell?"

"Burrows will meet you at carpool at 5—he'll drive you downtown and help you sneak in," she stated. "He'll be masquerading as an Immigrations agent and will get you in. The group leaves for the airport around 6, so make sure you have a quick dinner here before you leave."

"I will," Alex sighed, getting up. "Actually I think I will go to Medical and get something, but not a prescription. I don't do any kind of drugs anymore, not if I can help it."

"A wise decision," Amanda smiled, nodding as her phone rang. "I'll see you for that photo," she added, effectively dismissing her.

Alex left without further comment, and Amanda felt a twinge of irritation at not having placed what that small change in her had been. But in due time, she told herself as she listened to the secretary's voice on the other end of the call and switched lanes. Operations was calling her, and she only hoped it wasn't about Nikita.

_c. 2012 by Christine Levitt _

10


	18. Ch 18 Fetters

_**Chapter 18 Fetters**_

_**Alex leaned her head against the window of the transport plane, **_sighing tiredly as she stared out into the blackness of the night. Glad for the thick scarf she'd wrapped around her neck, she shrugged lower into the skimpy winter coat from Wardrobe, fighting another shiver. The C130 cabin was barely heated and virtually empty, aside from the three Humvees facing them and the lines of mostly unoccupied seats against the walls. Like some poor orphan sleepover, most of the girls lay slumped against each other on the floor, dozing or listening to their iPods. Only a few of them had remained belted in their seats as she did, avoiding each other and keeping to themselves. The general mood was morose and bored, but she sensed most of them were depressed or fearful of going back home to whatever had made them flee in the first place. Still they seemed to have resigned themselves to their fate, left with nothing to do but take advantage of the long flight to catch up on some rest. The overhead lights had been dimmed accordingly, and it was relatively quiet despite the drone of the huge engines carrying them over the North Atlantic toward home.

_Home…now there's a relative term._

One of their two guards got up and stretched his back, his expression still on the alert as if one of them might try to take his pistol. She grimaced and shifted her attention back to her window, trying to picture Birkhoff's recent trip to the same part of the world. She could still see him dressed in that tux, hair all styled and colored and looking delicious. Her heart warmed at the thought of him and she smiled, realizing that now he was her family, their spacious house in the woods her home now. Missing him fiercely, she couldn't wait to get back to him and look into his eyes. It was way too soon, separating from him for this long and after only being married a few days. The only consolation she had was that he would be monitoring her once she landed, the satellite com he'd planted in the laptop in Moscow while on his last field op able to be activated by the signal switch he'd embedded in her Division phone. Of course it was a hidden signal, one which the other staff in Operations would never be able to detect.

Shifting uncomfortably, she stretched despite the handcuffs biting into her wrists again, further frustrating her. She tried crossing her legs for a change, deciding the skimpy shirt covered her even less with that kind of move. It was humiliating, dressing and acting the same way she'd once been forced to do, especially now that she was a married woman and had been free of life on the streets for years. She wondered why Division had felt the sudden need to send her on this op, whereas before they'd had virtually no interest in exposing any sex slave trade. She suspected that Amanda was using the opportunity to send her back in just to remind her of her roots. What a heyday she'd have, debriefing her upon her return with that analytical gaze studying her every reaction. Did she think she'd crumble under the pressure of undercover work? Or worse, did she expect her to use this disguise for Division's own form of sex slavery? Oh she'd heard stories of female agents going undercover and ending up call girls and mistresses just to avoid blowing their cover. Even Nikita had admitted she'd been forced to sleep with someone, as had Michael too. Was Amanda expecting her to do the same thing?

_Well the answer is no, _she decided, thinking of Birkhoff home by himself and probably missing her almost as much as she was missing him right now. She couldn't wait until they landed and she had a chance to activate her signal, knowing he'd be monitoring her op from back home. If only she could talk to him and let him know how afraid she was, not of the assignment but of being put in the position of compromising everything just to keep her cover intact. Amanda had assured her that this job would only last a few days, and she knew it could represent an opportunity for her to escape Division altogether. Birkhoff had warned her that the best way to get out was to find a way to fake her own death, thus gaining release from Division. But they had to be convinced that whichever dead body she chose to identify with was really her. It wasn't likely they'd send Roan all the way here to check the identity, so she was almost guaranteed the chance. Alone and unsupervised except for Shawn expecting her to call in at some point, she knew this was her chance. She could be dead and gone, as far as Division was concerned.

Unfortunately there was the problem of Birkhoff being expected to report back to work the same day she was due to arrive back. If she played her cards right she'd plant her things on her replacement and return before either of t hem were due back. Worrying about all the details, she prayed they were doing the right thing, still feeling a sense of dread as if something terrible was about to happen. She had to find a way out.

Closing her eyes, she prayed a one-shot request up to God for help, remembering her grandfather's fervent prayers, overheard when she was just a little girl. Somehow they'd always made her feel safe and protected, but that was a very long time ago.

Time passed slowly, but the next time she gazed out her window she saw lights far below, reassured that they would be landing in just a few more hours. Finally giving in to the sluggish demand for sleep creeping over her, she closed her eyes again, deciding a nap was in order. Taking a deep breath she forced herself to relax, her mind filling with images of her Birkhoff's eyes and the memory of his voice deep and soft in her ear. And she longed for the strength of his arms, holding her close. Resting her temple on the padded wall, she gave up resisting her exhaustion and fell into a light sleep.

'_**Who-hoah!" Birkhoff cried, shielding his eyes from the sight of Nikita's bare midriff as she pulled a shirt down over her head. **_"Could you _not___do that, please?" he complained as he descended the stairs, keeping his gaze toward the opposite side of the room. __

"I haven't decided where to put all my stuff," she explained as he went to his monitor and jiggled the curser to take it out of sleep mode.

"Well don't get too comfortable," he drawled, frowning at the results Shadowbot had pulled up. "Before you know it, Michael'l be home and you guys can find your own place."

"Yeah, hopefully," she sang, straightening from stuffing something into her overnight bag. "I'm looking forward to Alex's return too."

"Yeah, tell me about it," he sighed, sitting down to program another search. A thought came to him and he glanced up. "Actually _anytime_ would be good for you to start—you don't need Mikey to look for a place."

"Ok, I get it," she laughed huskily, coming toward him while he studied the new search in progress. "Do Not Disturb the Newlyweds, right?"

"That's right," he drawled, frowning at her knowing smile as she came to stand at his side."What's so funny?"

"You are," she laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder for balance as she bent to his level and studied the scrolling results, "you old married man, you."

He snorted, glancing up at her. "Don't get me started, _old_ friend," he sighed, flinching at the slap she delivered to his arm. "Ouch!"

"You deserve it—making that crack about my age!" she scolded.

"Well you and Mikey aren't getting any younger," he drawled, selecting some of the results. "At least _I _married the one I love….you two could take the hint."

"Believe me, we're nowhere ready for that kind of commitment," she sighed, shaking her head. "Not for a while."

"Well I for one _highly_ recommend marriage," he stated, pulling up another search engine.

"Like you know anything about it—after what, one week?" she chortled.

"That's nearly two weeks, mademoiselle," he frowned, shaking his head. "There we were, just getting into the groove of it and poof—Amanda spirits Alex away to none other than the Former Soviet Union."

She eyed him suspiciously. "Didn't _you_ just come back from there?"

"I did," he sighed, his eyes on his screens. "Let me tell you, they don't play nice over there."

"Like they do here in the Big City," she replied sarcastically.

He smiled, eyeing the floor to ceiling windows at his other side. "Which I why we moved out here."

"That remains to be seen—hey wait! Stop!" she ordered, squinting at the top window. "That one—the tracking map—I see something."

He maximized it, staring at the blinking red dot in the middle of the map. "Looks like Madam Senator is on the move despite her out of town status," he stated, zooming the street map. "She's headed out of the city, but not south toward home."

"Your little melt-away tracker seems to be working," Nikita gushed, rushing toward the couch to pick up her jacket. "Let's go—no time to waste!"

"Of course it worked—what do you mean 'let's go'?" he demanded, turning toward her. "What are you doing?"

"We're going to follow our dear Senator," she stated, shrugging into her coat. "Apparently she's called an emergency meeting for Oversight. She has to get back to DC, so time is of the essence."

"Hold the phone—I've got Shadownet tracking her moves and I'm already set up to hack any security zone she passes through," he informed her, frowning at her determined expression as she stepped into her boots.

"Grab your iPad instead and move it," she ordered, straightening to her full height. "We can't afford to let this opportunity pass, Birkhoff!"

He shot to his feet and strode toward her. "Opportunity for what?" he shot back, stopping to face her. "Wait, you're not seriously thinking—"

"No time to think," she smirked, shoving his jacket at him. "They're on the move so I'll drive while you trace her route. I'm thinking she has to get as far out of the city as possible, probably to some remote place along the Hudson. _And _there's no Washington security unit on her tail."

"Are you crazy?" he complained. "We aren't prepared for reconnaissance, let alone infiltration—"

"Oversight is finally meeting after all this time," she argued. "We've got to make a move if we want all their identities. Don't worry—you can stay in the car while I take pictures."

"_Neither_ of us is going into that kind of situation," he argued, "not without proper prep and backup!"

She smirked, patting his arm. "It's ok to be scared—Nerd. Now let's go."

He stared at her retreating back in shock. "Yeah well maybe fear is a good thing, you ever think of that? It forces you to stop and regroup, become situationally aware?"

"Oh, so you're going to argue situational awareness? It's only surveillance, Birkhoff."

"Whatever it is, Division will be waiting for you," he warned. "Tell me you're not crazy enough to walk into a trap, please!"

"It'll be fine," she sighed, eyeing his iPad. "If you're not coming, then hand over your iPad."

"No way!" he shouted, shaking his head. "Look I don't know what's going on with you, but you've been on some kind of a bender ever since Michael left."

She planted her hands on her hips, eyeing him critically. "I'm _trying _to blow a hole that Michael _and Alex _can crawl out through—I thought that was the plan!"

"Of course it is but prowling around Oversight meetings is too dangerous!" he insisted, running a hand through his hair. "Look you know protocol as well as I do—we gather the intel, do the proper planning and reconnaissance and make sure we've covered everything floating around the senator's sphere of influence, all with team support and backup. It just goes without saying—"

"Birkhoff we don't have time for that!" she cried, grabbing his arm. "Oversight is running scared right now, and their panic puts us at a rare advantage."

He shook his head. "We need back up—otherwise it's just too risky."

"Then don't come—I don't need your help!" she cried, heading up the stairs. "Have a nice reunion with Alex," she called back down.

"Dammit—Nikita wait!" he yelled, grabbing his jacket and charging up the stairs after her. "You can't go alone, you hear me? At least call Michael—"

She whirled on him, stabbing a finger into his chest. "Michael will be too late, and so will Alex! Now are you with me or not, because if not then I'm going alone—"

"Alright, alright!" he growled, grabbing up his keys. "But this is insane, and you know it!"

She preceded him out the door, hurrying toward her car instead of his. He locked up and followed, eyeing his own car, which would be better for a faster getaway. Then again Nikita's car wasn't registered in New York like his, but New Jersey. He had to at least try to keep his new location secret.

"Thanks, Nerd," she smiled as he climbed in and belted himself, "I'd love your company."

"Don't thank me," he grumbled, grabbing the door rail as she burned rubber and started off. "This is the last time I go charging of half cocked with you anywhere, understand?"

"Got it," she smiled, pulling out onto the main road and quickly gaining speed.

He cringed, glancing her way. "Ah, PS the local cops just love to catch out of towners, so stay within the limits unless you want to get stopped."

She grinned, glancing over at him. "How many tickets you get already?"

He opened his iPad and pulled up the senator's tracker. "None of your business…once I get this baby rolling we're going to have a little talk about the future."

"Ooooh, sounds serious," she teased.

"No joking, I mean it," he stated, his eyes on the screen. "We're not going to work together if you're gonna be like this—we clear?"

"Alright, I'm sorry, but this is important."

"I know it is," he sighed, glancing out at the passing landscape. "But it won't do any good if we get ourselves maimed or killed."

"No, it won't," she agreed halfheartedly.

He glanced at her, shaking his head. "Actually I'm gonna have a long talk with Michael when _he _gets back...he's the only one who can do anything about you."

She glanced at him, her expression softening. "Sorry…I guess he is."

_**Alex slipped the flash drive into her cuff and expertly powered off the laptop. **_Glancing around the darkened room, she listened intently as she slipped it back into the drawer and got up. Heading for the window, she braced both hands on the bottom and pushed it back up, then carefully climbed out. Dropping to the cobblestoned alley, she checked her surroundings and started back toward the street, pulling her collar up and smoothing any concern from her expression. The wind blew around and through her, making her shiver as she strolled back toward the curb.

_Please God, don't let anyone stop for me. _

The other girl across the street nodded to her, turning to retrace her route as she too waited for a customer. Alex pushed back a few strands of hair the wind tossed against her eyes, glancing up at the angry sky. Stepping back as a bus charged toward her, she turned and watched the wave of water it blew up in its wake. Pursing her lips, she turned back just as a few drops of icy rain hit her head. In her pocket her work phone vibrated, so she pulled it out and frowned at the text message her 'pimp' sent her. Snorting at his request for an update, she felt the rain begin to shower down upon her. A few passing cars put on their wipers, and with a soft prayer of thanks she texted him back.

_Nobody stopping…raining now. Check in with you later._

Snapping it shut, she headed back to the hotel, watching the other girl start off in the opposite direction. All she had to do now was work the hotel bar and let people buy her "drinks," an easy end to her last shift. She'd make some excuse about feeling sick and go to her room. After the bar closed she'd change and sneak out to make her way to the bus terminal and eventual freedom. She'd made contact, gotten the address and stepped into her role, copied the intel and gotten out safely so far. Unfortunately she hadn't found a Jane Doe in the morgue with whom to switch identities, so Division's plan was still set. Her rendezvous point was an abandoned airfield only 2km from the last bus stop, to which she would hike through the woods dressed as a teenage boy. She'd wait for the private jet, make the connection for a military flight back and return to Division by dinnertime.

Smiling at the bartender, she brushed the rain off her shoulders and headed toward the bathroom. Shoving the door open, she flounced toward the mirrors and leaned in close, wiping her smeared mascara away with her fingertips. As she did her memory flashed with memories of her escapade with Birkhoff in the ladies' room not too long ago. She smiled, feeling suddenly hopeful.

"Only a few more days, my love," she whispered, glancing down at her bared cleavage that resulted in the strategically placed push-up bra. _Thank God you can't see me now, _she thought, tugging up her

neckline. But when she imagined Birkhoff's eyes widening at the way she looked, she smiled brighter.

_Then again maybe you'd like this look,_ she realized before she caught herself.

"Enough," she whispered in her native tongue. Turning away from her reflection, she squared her shoulders and started back for the bar.

_I can do this—no, I will do this. Then I'll come home to you._

_**Michael reached for his cell phone, trying to focus on the number of the caller. **_With a tired sigh he pulled it open and hit the button. "Hey," he croaked, eyeing the other sleeping passengers around him.

"Michael—I don't know what to do! They've got Birkhoff!" Nikita cried, her voice hoarse with fear.

"What? What's going on—who's got Birkhoff?"

He frowned, listening intently as she explained what had happened. Withholding the urge to reprimand her for such a crazy stunt, he nearly groaned with frustration as fear rose up within him. "Ok—ok, calm down! Where are you both?"

"Division took him!" she screamed into the cell, alarming him with the news. Somehow they'd found out where Oversight was meeting, tried to secretly photograph the members but instead were discovered. Birkhoff had been out in her car, monitoring the situation but somehow he'd been caught.

"He'd hidden his signal so I don't know how they found him!" Nikita cried, her voice getting hoarse. "I've looked all over town and got help, but there's no trace of him. I know Division got him, Michael—we've got to do something!"

"How long has he been missing?" he croaked, finally moving to the back foyer by the restrooms.

"Since almost an hour ago," she cried, her voice catching. "This is all my fault!"

"Nikita, focus! If it was that soon then he's probably with Amanda right now," he realized, his heart pounding with fear at the thought of what Amanda might do to him.

"She'll cancel him, Michael!" she screeched, biting back a cry.

"Look the only way to get him out of there is a trade," he stated. "And I think you know what to use."

"You don't mean the black box?"

"We have to, it's the only way," he insisted. "Call Amanda and set up a swap, before it's too late. But you'll have to make sure the trade is protected, and find a way to get him out quick in case they change their minds. And tell them that if they don't deliver him safely you'll broadcast the entire contents of the box—that'll scare them into complying. You know how to set up a jack to the networks?"

"Yes, Birkhoff showed me just a few months ago," she shuddered, her voice breaking on his name."Oh Michael, if anything happens to him—"

"Don't go there—just put the call in as soon as you get off the line," he ordered, listening to her soft goodbye before hanging up. Starting back to his seat, he spent the rest of his flight imagining how he'd make Amanda pay for this, and for everything else.

_**Struggling to keep from passing out, Birkhoff felt his arms being jerked back as he was lifted to his feet. **_Groaning at the pain coursing through his body, he realized he was being dragged from the elevator and down a long corridor. Blood coursed down the side of his face and he couldn't focus his eyes for more than a few seconds. Weakness thundered over him, and he fought to stay conscious, staring at his feet in surprise as they dragged him along. His arms felt like they were being pulled from their sockets and he felt overwhelmingly nauseous. Then suddenly he was being laid onto the floor in a sitting position while they yanked off his jacket. Lifting him again, they slammed him back into a chair of some sort as pain shot throughout his ribs. Gasping for breath, he felt his hands forced up and held in place while iron cuffs imprisoned his wrists. His ankles were similarly secured, but he was too dazed to care. The harsh lights knifed into his eyes, so he turned his head away and closed them. When he heard the sound of heels clicking on the tiles he cringed, remembering how Percy's shoes had made a similar sound just before the whipping began. But something was wrong with that picture. This couldn't be Percy, could it? Wasn't he dead?

A woman's perfume caught his attention and he looked up, surprised to find a stranger coming toward him. Focusing his eyes, he studied the petite black woman who turned to eye him soberly before she leaned over him and attached something to his left forearm.

"I like the naughty school girl look," he croaked, amazed to see her pinched lips relax. She met his gaze, a twinkle of interest in her eyes. Then she taped a lead to his other arm and he knew the situation.

"So we're playing truth or dare? Cool…I've got some truth for you…"

She glanced up momentarily, then turned her back to him. He heard the sound of metal on metal, a tray of utensils, he guessed.

"You nailed me out there," he drawled, feeling strangely numb, "fair and square…you've got skills."

She turned back to face him, her expression softening a bit before he continued.

"But when they're finished with you, they'll snap your neck," he warned. "I've seen 'em do it."

She paused, her expression showing her alarm. Then she stiffened and he heard more clicking heels. He felt his heart begin to pound at the familiar sound. _Amanda…_

"Seymour," she stated in a low seductive voice. "I see the boys gave you a proper welcome back."

He swallowed thickly, watching her as carefully as he could manage.

She glanced at the girl and nodded. "There's no need for standard procedure this time," she said in a deceptively pleasant voice. The girl backed away from him as he focused on Amanda's cool smile. "There are better ways of getting the truth," she stated, effectively dismissing her.

"Yes ma'am," she replied in a soft British accent, her heels clicking as she slowly left the room.

"Amanda, thank God," he gasped in mock relief. "Michael and Nikita forced me to do hacking and surveillance for them—they wanted me to decrypt the black box, threatening to kill me if I didn't help!"

She smiled indulgently. "Was that before or after you rescued them with your attack drones?"

He hesitated, feeling a chill run up his spine at her sinister smile.

"Come now, Seymour—you don't expect me to believe that line, do you? If I didn't know better I'd say you've developed some sort of hero complex, when you used to be such a selfish creature."

He ground his jaw, forcing himself to hold her gaze. "What do you want?"

"Nikita and the black box, of course," she said in a bored tone. "You're going to tell me where she is."

"Or what," he drawled, smiling at the irony of the situation, "you gonna kill me?"

She huffed and strolled toward the tray table, pulling off her dress jacket. "Seymour, you're much too intelligent to think that," she sighed, coming back to his side. "You're the Shadow Walker, after all!"

He dropped his gaze, hating the biting sarcasm in her voice. Maybe if he ignored her, she'd go away.

"You're more clever than anyone Division has ever seen, and more capable of course," she breathed. "Able to type at a speed of 120 words per minute!"

A strange swishing sound reminding him of Percy's whip alerted him just before something smashed down upon his right hand. Crying out in pain, he felt another blow before he could catch his breath. And he screamed again, falling back against the chair.

"Now 60," she declared matter of factly.

He was unable to prevent the scream tearing up his throat as a pain unlike any he'd ever felt gripped him in its icy hold. His hand burned and shook from the blows as he tried to catch his breath. Diverting his attention away from the intense pain shooting through his hand and up his arm, he tried to focus on her waiting expression.

"Tell me where Nikita is, or I'll keep going," she ordered.

He glared angrily at her, pulling against the fetters. "You might as well ask me where Carmen San Diego is 'cause I'm not giving up Nikki!" he shouted back.

"You know," she said calmly, coming closer and pulling on a pair of latex gloves. "I can call Medical and have the finest surgeons from Division come down and fix that," she stated, eyeing him meaningfully.

"Forget it, bitch!" he growled, fighting to catch his breath.

She stared at him condescendingly, waiting.

"What!" he shouted against the pain, which eventually pressed him back against the chair.

She lifted a hand, wagging her fingers over her shoulder as if summoning one of her minions. A cart was wheeled closer, looking suspiciously like a dentist's tray complete with a long drill-like arm arching overhead. He shuddered inwardly, remembering the way that she'd yanked out the crown of his tooth to remove the bug Nikita had placed beneath it, all without his knowledge. At least Niki had apparently sedated him first. But this was Amanda.

"This," she announced coolly, pulling the arm toward him and reaching up to attach something that looked like a needle to its end, "is a cranial needle. I hear cancer patients love its success at removing brain tumors, but of course they've been sedated first."

When she glanced down at him, positioning it closer to his head he felt like screaming for help. But who would help him here at Division?

"Now, if you don't tell me where Nikita is I'll be forced to use this," she said calmly, shrugging her shoulders. "Otherwise I will have to insert it up through your nose, thus piercing your sinus cavity to enter the frontal lobe, where I will inject a paralytic. Then your most prized possession—your mind—will effectively wither and die."

He swallowed, staring at the needle while she fondled it and knowing he couldn't betray Nikita, Alex or Michael. He focused on her face, parting his chapped and split lips. "You're a psychopath," he accused, looking her in the eye.

She pursed her lips and straightened, turning to one side to pick up a roll of duct tape. A ripping sound preceded her measuring off a couple of feet or so, which she carried around behind him.

"You used to be such a selfish creature, but now you've suddenly developed a sense of altruism," she complained, stepping behind him. Reaching over his head, she suddenly spread the tape over his forehead and shoved his head back against the headrest. He groaned in pain, feeling his panic rise as she stepped around him and smiled eerily. Hiking up her skirt, she planted a knee between his legs and climbed up onto the chair, leaning over him and positioning the needle near his right nostril.

He tensed and gripped the arm of the chair with is good hand, staring at the end of the needle. To keep her balance she laid a hand high on his thigh. A sick feeling coursed through his loins at its position while she moved her face to within an inch of his.

"What is it about Nikita that so fascinates you?" she moaned, her gaze lowering to his lips.

He swallowed hard, pressing his head back to avoid her lips. "Please, Amanda—I can decrypt the black boxes for you, just like the engineer! He taught me how—"

"Surely you know it's hopeless," she scolded, her eyes gazing into his as she brought the needle closer. "Nikita would never look at you the same was she does Michael. He's first in line, always has been," she whispered, pulling the needle closer to his nose.

"Please don't do this," he choked, his chest heaving in fear. "Please—please don't—"

"How could you forget all that I did for you?" she breathed, guiding the needle into his nostril.

"Please don't do this," he choked as it went higher. The hand on his thigh tightened as horror and shame crashed over him, paralyzing him further.

"We spent all those hours together," she stated, her eyes drilling into his. Her lips parted, their dark red fullness moving closer to his. "Don't you realize that if it wasn't for me you'd still be a frightened little boy instead of the mature, handsome man you've become."

"What are you—talking about?" he managed to choke, closing his eyes as the needle moved higher, pricking the inside of his nose. Something dripped down the back of his throat as he fought the urge to choke.

"You know exactly what I mean," she accused as he opened his eyes again.

"Please—don't do this," he whispered, pleading for mercy.

She smiled and inserted it a fraction of an inch higher. "Say it, Seymour."

"Please don't! Please don't do this!"

She paused, her gaze blazing with a combination of hatred and fascination. "Don't do what? Make you go back in time, relive the time when you first came to me?" she whispered, her gaze lowering to his lips. "I could have taught you other things, Seymour, but no—you wanted Nikita. You betrayed me after all I'd done for you—"

"Amanda—" a voice interrupted, that beautifully feminine British accented voice which effectively made Amanda freeze.

"What!" she demanded, her voice hard and masculine, booming into the silence.

"Nikita's on the line," the girl said, her voice shaky. "She says it's urgent. I've got her on hold for you."

Amanda's gaze hardened and she pursed her lips. Then she slowly pulled the needle back. Flooded with relief and feeling her hand lift from his leg, he exhaled a tense breath in a raspy shudder. The needle withdrew all the way, an inch of its end dripping with his blood as fear gripped him again.

She gripped his arm and climbed off him while he shook involuntarily. Gagging from the blood and mucus coursing down the back of his throat, he stared at the ceiling, his head still taped down. All his attention focused on the sounds echoing around him—the snap of the latex gloves as she pulled them off and tossed them aside, her heels clicking away from him. Panic swelled throughout his chest as he waited, praying for deliverance and the chance to see Alex at least one more time before they finished the job, or miraculously released him.

_Thank God for Nikita…somehow she'd tried to come through._

Her steps clicked down the corridor as she shouted back. "Sonya!"

Then he realized that the girl was still there. Trying to see her expression, he caught a glimpse of her horror-stricken face before she turned and left, her shoes also clicking on the tiles. He choked again, groaning in pain and wondering what his fate would be.

_**Alex trudged tiredly toward the office, her overnight bag still in hand as she prepared to sign in. **_Then a movement caught her eye down the hall and she turned, focusing on the young black woman leaning back against the wall. Studying her with concern, she noted her bent over posture, the hand she kept over her mouth and her wide-eyed expression. Hiding in the crevice next to the entrance to the restrooms, she looked to be in shock. Walking slowly toward her, Alex watched her straighten and smooth all concern from her expression.

"Sonya?" she said gently, stopping a few feet from her. Hoping she'd remembered her name correctly, she recalled being introduced to her as Birkhoff's new staff member just before leaving on assignment. "What's wrong?"

Sonya pulled away from the wall and pulled open the restroom door. Following, Alex caught up with her and touched her shoulder.

"Hey, it's me," she soothed, surprised at the frozen stance she'd assumed. Coming around to face her, she stared at her grief-stricken face.

"He was right," Sonya choked, shaking her head. "He said they'd kill me if I did anything wrong, and now they're trying to kill him!" she whispered.

"Who was right?" Alex prompted, staring at her.

"I can't believe it—I just can't believe it, though I've seen it with my own eyes!"

"What's happened?" Alex continued, guiding her toward the sofa. "Who are you talking about?"

"Birkhoff!" she gasped, shaking her head. "I saw—I saw what she was doing to him, after they'd beaten him up!"

"Birkhoff?" she gasped, gripping Sonya's arm. "What are you talking about, he's on leave!"

"Amanda's got him in the interrogation room torturing him!" she whispered, her eyes wild. "But don't tell anyone or she'll kill me!"

"Birkhoff's being tortured?" she croaked in alarm, realization dawning on her fogged mind.

"She had a needle up his nose, probably going for his brain!" Sonya hissed. "If Nikita hadn't called and I hadn't gone in there to tell her—wait! Don't go—"

"I'm getting him out of there!" Alex cried as she rushed toward the door.

"But Amanda's in her office talking to Nikita—she's bargaining for his release!"

She paused at the door. "Then stall her while I get him out!" she ordered, shoving the door open and rushing into the hall. Thankfully no one was around due to the late hour, and she prayed to get to him in time as she rushed into the stairwell.

_c. 2012 by Christine Levitt_

13


	19. Ch 19 The Rescue

_**Chapter 19 The Rescue **_

Alex snuck past the loading dock, edging toward the cavernous amphitheatre that opened before her. Listening intently, she scanned the room for any signs of Amanda's guards, deciding it was safe for the moment. With a pounding heart she approached the interrogation chair, noting the two metal carts rolled up to the right side. Moving as if in slow motion, she noted the hand lying limply encased within its iron fetter, then glanced down at the blood spattered floor. Approaching the chair from the left, the first thing she saw was his smashed and bloodied right hand, still bound. Raising her eyes to his profile, she covered her mouth to keep from crying out.

It was him, but his face was bloody and beaten and he was unconscious. His head was tilted back, held in place by duct tape spanning his forehead and throat. His eyes were closed, his white tee shirt stained with blood and dirt. Reaching for a scalpel she slit the duct tape, freeing his head and watching as it fell to his right shoulder. Gently removing the tape she touched his forehead, smoothing back his bloody matted hair. He was unconscious, making it even more of a challenge for her to get him out.

_Please God, _she pleaded inwardly, _help me get him out of here!_

Quickly bending to search for the release, she spied a metal toggle switch and flipped it in the opposite direction. With a loud clank the fetters opened, so she shot up and rushed toward the cabinets, thinking of his hand first and foremost. Grabbing what she wanted, she dropped everything onto the table at his side except the plastic cuff which she carefully maneuvered beneath his palm. Gently lifting his mangled hand, she braced it with several pads of gauze and quickly wrapped it inside the sleeve. Suddenly he jerked, moaning as his eyelids fluttered. Then he choked and gasped, slowly coming to his senses. She gripped his shoulder and leaned closer.

"Darling it's me," she whispered, kissing his forehead as he turned his head away with a groan of a protest.

"Leave me alone!" he croaked, his voice nearly gone.

"Birkhoff wake up," she pleaded, gripping his upper arms. "It's Alex—let's get you out of here!"

He stilled suddenly, staring at her with unfocused gaze. Inhaling sharply, he stiffened and grabbed her arm. "Get out—she's coming back!" he rasped, his eyes wide.

"We're getting you out of here," she insisted, tugging him forward and sliding her arm behind his back. He gasped in pain, curling his good arm around his ribs.

"Don't want her to get you," he panted, sliding toward the edge of the chair.

"I know darling," she whispered, "careful."

"My hand…" he groaned, nestling it against his chest as he slid off the seat.

"Keep it elevated," she soothed, reaching for the sling she'd found with the supplies. He waited while she lifted it over his head and positioned it for him. He waited, making an obvious effort just to keep his head up.

"Hurry," he croaked, rising somewhat unsteadily. She guided his good arm over her shoulders and turned with him, snagging his jacket from the railing and starting back toward the freight elevator.

"So thirsty," he croaked, looking weaker.

"You're doing great," she smiled nervously, trying not to panic. "I've got water in the car."

They stumbled to the elevator doors and she pushed the button. They parted immediately, and within seconds they were on their way back up to the surface.

He looked up, still slumped against the wall. "How'd you know?" he drawled, his voice cracking as he eyed her intently.

"I'll explain later," she reassured him, concerned by the further slump in his posture. "You ok?"

"Gonna puke," he warned, gagging as he dropped his head again.

She gently stroked his back as he retched but nothing came up. "You'll be fine," she hoped, "take some deep breaths. I think you're dehydrated."

After a moment he straightened, resting his head back and breathing deeply.

The chime announced their arrival, and he straightened, lifting his arm back to her shoulders as she guided him across the loading dock. Just before the stairs he halted, staring at the fuse box.

"Wait," he croaked, veering toward it and snapping it open. He squinted at the contents, then pulled a couple of wires. Finally he punched the keypad with several series of numbers and slammed the cover back. "Let's go!"

She nodded, guiding him down the stairs and across the lot to her car. Helping him into the passenger seat, she eyed the security cameras with a puzzled expression. When she gave him her attention again he'd leaned his head back against the headrest, his eyes closed and his hand nested against his shoulder. She shut the door, climbed in and leaned over to buckle him in, fastening her own seat belt. Then she drove off, burning rubber.

"Let's get you to a hospital," she stated, speeding up the road toward the city.

"Too risky," he croaked, opening his eyes as she nudged him with her water bottle.

"Your hand needs to be treated," she argued, watching him lift it to his lips and drink a few swallows. "No one's following us."

"Oversight's keeping them distracted," he sighed, setting the bottle down, "and Nikita."

"Sophia said she was on the phone with Amanda, trying to bargain for your release."

"Warn her," he gasped as they hit a bump.

"Sorry—I'll call her and tell her I've got you."

There was no response as she made the call, quickly briefing Nikita who'd been setting up a swap. Thankfully that wouldn't be necessary now, but Division didn't have to know that.

"Ok—meet me at Birkhoff's place later, ok? I'll text you the address once I get him settled at the ER."

She glanced over at him, seeing that he was watching her more clearly now.

"What do you mean, you know the address?" she squinted, glancing at him. "You'll explain later? Ok, I guess I'll see you then."

She put her phone down and slowed in the city traffic. "The trauma hospital is your best bet," she reassured him. "They'll have better surgeons right there, and it'll be harder to trace us."

"Ok," he said softly, his eyes on her. He swallowed eyed her soberly. "Thanks for coming for me...I owe you."

She glanced at him in disbelief. "You don't owe me anything—I'm your wife, remember?" she argued, laughing at herself after a second. "What am I doing? I'm sorry for snapping at you like that!"

To her surprise he chuckled, which sounded more like a moan. Wincing at the smile stretching his cracked lips, he closed his eyes in relief. "I love you Alex…"

She reached over, taking his hand and squeezing it. He laced his fingers through hers, breathing out a contented sigh.

"I love you too," she stated, noting the light change to green. "Now let's get your hand taken care of."

_**Nikita ran a hand through her hair in relief, grateful for Alex's rescue of Birkhoff.**_ They were on their way to the hospital, where she was sure Alex would check him in under some false name. Knowing Birkhoff he'd probably already made fake id's for them to use, so they should be safe for now until she got him treated and back home. Guilty for what she'd put him through, taking that kind of risk despite his insistence that it was foolish, she knew she owed him big time, and she was already planning how to make it up to him. She'd already texted Michael to be careful after informing him Birkhoff was rescued. They had a lot of planning to do once he debriefed with Amanda and got a break to rest, but that was for later. For now she still had some loose ends to tie up, and when she got the incoming call from Division she knew it was time.

"Boy Scout—or Sean Pierce should I say?" she began. "Calling me to set up a meet and collect your little black box?"

"Stop with the games, Nikita," he ordered, his voice a bit shaky beneath the harsh tone. "I know you stole Birkhoff back so what's with the little cat and mouse?"

"It's not a game," she stated calmly, almost smiling at another victory. "Now put Amanda on."

"You were the one who wanted _me_ to be the delivery boy," he growled. "So what's your next move—upload the data and destroy us all?"

"I think I'll save that for another day," she sighed, "now put Amanda on—we're through."

"She's busy," he informed her. "Why bother anyway, now that you've got your little brother back?"

"You're the one playing games—get Amanda on the line," she threatened.

"She's with Percy in one of their little head to heads! You wanted me, so deal with me."

"Alright, but make sure you give her and all of Division this message," she stated. "If any of you threatens _any _of my family again you'll regret it."

_**Alex stared at the ER doctor as he flipped on the light behind the x-rays, concerned by his frown of disapproval.**_ When he turned to face her he looked almost angry, his gaze shooting to Birkhoff's pale but battered face. He'd packed Birkhoff's right nostril after administering a local to control his pain, but upon clearing his throat he eyed Alex.

"As you can see from the x-rays of the sinus and his right hand, your husband has suffered a slight puncture of the anterior maxillary sinus wall as well as fracturing of the 2nd and 3rd MCPs—his knuckles, no doubt from a blunt trauma injury. CT scans show no major damage to the intranasal cavity, which should heal quickly, however the hand trauma is another matter.

She stared at him in silence, waiting for him to continue. He sighed mightily, shaking his head.

"I'm afraid I don't buy your story about the fight," he added, picking up his clipboard to write notes. "It's clear that his knuckles were fractured by a blunt instrument, I'd say a hammer if I didn't know better."

Alex squeezed Birkhoff's good hand, and he opened his eyes to look up at the doctor. "You're good," he croaked, closing his eyes again. "It was a hammer."

She exchanged looks with the doctor, whose frown deepened. "It's something that cannot be treated simply, and will no doubt necessitate percutaneous external fixation with Kirchner wires, but the hand surgeon will be by shortly to confirm."

"You're talking surgery," Birkhoff stated, eyeing the doctor with some effort.

"No, I don't think that's indicated," he reassured him, turning at the knock on the door. A head poked in, and they stared at the Indian doctor who smiled and pushed it open. He went to Birkhoff, glancing down at his bloody cut open bandages before eyeing him intently.

"I'd shake your hand if it wasn't the right," he apologized, nodding to the ER doctor and to Alex. "I'm Dr. Pandaraboyina, the hand surgeon. Might I have a look?"

The ER doctor patted his back and laid his clipboard on the counter. "I gotta go—his chart is here."

"Thank you, Dr. Elman," he said somewhat distractedly, already pulling up a stool and bending over Birkhoff's hand. After a few moments he rose, strode over to examine the x-rays, then the chart before he came back, rubbing his left temple.

"Well?" Birkhoff croaked, gazing up at him. "You've got a pretty bad crush injury to your 2nd and 3rd MCPs," he stated. "We can either do surgery or go the conservative route, which is to set up an external fixation with K-wires."

Birkhoff glanced away. "That's what I was afraid of…conservative route, please."

The doctor eyed Alex. "Did Dr. Elman explain what that is?"

She shook her head. "Not so that we could understand it."

"You stick pins in my skin and wire me up, right doc?" Birkhoff sighed. "Do it then."

"Ok, looks like you know a little bit about the procedure," he smiled, glancing at Alex. "It is true, instead of surgery, which is an open fixation, we do an external fixation, tapping pins around the knuckles and connecting them with wires which hold the broken bones in place. Part of the wires are left exposed and are easily removed after three to four weeks."

"Sounds painful," Alex stated, glancing at Birkhoff's gray pallor. "Will he feel it?"

"Not if we administer a light anesthesia," he admitted, "assuming this is the route you desire to take."

"Just do it, doc," Birkhoff sighed, "the sooner the better. My hand's killing me."

"You've just had a local administered," he replied, scanning the notes from the ER physician. "I will set it up right away and you should be out of here by morning."

He opened his eyes. "No sooner?"

"I'm afraid not—we monitor you after the anesthesia, and given your other injuries it's best you remain here for that span of time anyway."

"Please, doctor—do whatever you have to do?" she pleaded.

He nodded. "Ok—we'll proceed then. I must set things up, but an anesthesiologist will be here shortly to begin. The surgical nurse will come in as well and go over everything pre- and post-procedurally. I'll set up a suite and take the x-rays there. See you soon, then."

She nodded, waiting until the door closed before leaning over Birkhoff. She kissed his temple, and he turned his head toward her, looking up at her with a dazed expression. "Sorry, babe," he sighed.

"None of this is your fault," she whispered, gently stroking his hair.

"It is," he said wearily. "I went along with Nikita's plan, knowing it was crazy."

Alex stared at him a minute. "This was Nikita's idea? Going after Division?"

"Oversight, to be exact," he replied. "I only went because she was going to do it alone."

"Oh Daniel," she murmured, leaning her cheek against his. "Your poor hand."

"I'll be ok," he reassured her, squeezing her hand. "Just stay close, ok? I like the mothering-wife thing."

She laughed softly, kissing his brow. "I'd love to…I'm sorry I wasn't around."

He moistened his lips. "Everything go ok over there?"

"Pretty smoothly," she admitted. "Someday I'll dress up in my old costume—I think you'll like it."

"I'd like you in any costume," he admitted, "better yet, none at all."

"Well I can tell you're feeling better already," she teased, laying her hand on his shoulder.

"It's the drugs, sweetheart," he joked tiredly, glancing toward the door. "You have a chance to make an identity switch over there, like we discussed?"

"'fraid not," she stated. "There wasn't time or opportunity."

He nodded. "Then why don't you check out the morgue here, while I'm being patched up?"

She stared at his unfocused gaze and half smile, astonished at his planning expertise. "You know that's a great idea. I might just do that, if they throw me out to work on your hand."

"Take my advice and don't watch," he replied. "I wouldn't, if I were you."

The door opened and a nurse came in with another IV bag. "Hello—I'm Janie Henderson. Dr. Pandara sent me in to get you going on your general, ok?"

She squeezed his shoulder, smiling at the nurse. "My husband will be more than happy to travel to La La Land," she stated. "He's in a lot of pain right about now."

"I'm sure," she breathed, hooking up the bag and checking his IV insertion site. "Let's just exchange drips, shall we? You haven't had anything to eat or drink in a while, have you?"

"He just had a few swallows of water a couple of hours ago, that's all," Alex answered. "What about the nasal packing? Does he have to keep that in?"

"I'm afraid so, at least until after 24 hours," she stated, unclamping the line. "Dr. Pandara briefed me in the hall. There you go—you should start to relax and feel pleasantly out of it within ten minutes."

"Let's go then," Birkhoff sighed, closing his eyes.

The nurse eyed her hesitantly. "After a few minutes I'm going to have you help me clean him up, ok? We need to change that shirt and get him in a Johnny and warm blanket."

Alex nodded, watching his face begin to relax, a smile playing about his lips. "He looks more comfortable already," she admitted.

"Poor guy," the nurse shook her head. "He's been through it tonight, hasn't he?"

Alex stroked his hair back off his temple, studying his face. "You have no idea…"

_c. 2012 by Christine Levitt_

7


	20. Ch 20 Dark to Light

_**Chapter 20 Dark to Light **_

_**Nikita watched nervously as the rental car pulled up in front of the house. **_Her heart pounded as she shoved open her door and climbed out. Though she was stiff from sitting so long she walked briskly toward them, watching Alex rush to open the passenger side door of the car. As Nikita reached her side she ignored Alex's grim expression and stopped abruptly, stared in horror at Birkhoff's condition. A sick feeling filled her at the sight of his heavily bandaged arm and the battered condition of his face.

"Dear God," she breathed, noting how he kept his head down while Alex unlocked his seatbelt for him.

"Wanna help me get him inside?" Alex prompted, snapping her out of her zombie-like trance.

"Of course," she breathed, moving closer as he turned to get out. "Let me help," she offered, gently lifting his good arm over her shoulders while Alex helped him support his cast. Together they helped him out and started slowly up the walkway.

Finally he turned his head, squinting at her in surprise. "Niki?" he sighed, leaning into her support. "You ok?"

Deeply touched by his concern, she nodded. "Fine," she choked, nodding toward the house as they walked. "Let's get you inside."

"Easy, love," Alex soothed as he slumped forward, eyeing her accusingly over his bent head.

Nikita knew she had it coming, for they'd been enjoying married life until she'd interfered, risking not only her own life but his as well. But now wasn't the time to discuss it. "Almost there," she encouraged.

It took some work, getting him inside and finally settling him into the small guest room situated on the first floor. She caught him grimace in pain a few times, though he was obviously trying to hide it from Alex. Together they helped him change into tee shirt and sweatpants, finally tucking him into the queen sized bed. Nikita had all she could do to refrain from asking all the questions that raced through her mind about what he'd suffered. It was obvious that the Division grunts had worked him over badly and that Amanda seemed to have broken something in his arm, but she suspected there was more damage neither of them could see. He was a very subdued Birkhoff, his eyes vacant and his manner somber and silent. She watched Alex cover him gently, smoothing his hair back off his forehead as her heart ached for him. Unable to keep from crying, Nikita went to the window to draw the curtains against the bright afternoon sunlight pouring into the room. He must have suffered a mild concussion as well, judging by the way he kept his eyes closed. Swallowing hard, she composed herself and turned back.

As she watched their interaction closely, she realized that this was the first time she'd seen them together since they'd married. It was obvious they'd become very close already, judging by the way they exchanged a glance or a touch, an intimacy that was subtle but unmistakable. Though spaced out from pain and medication Birkhoff's eyes followed his wife as much as possible. Whenever she was near they held hands, Alex's gaze never leaving him. She sat at his side, gently smoothing his hair until he sighed and closed his eyes. She smiled down at him, keeping his hand in hers even after his breathing slowed. Then she gently laid it atop the comforter, got up and bent to kiss his cheek. Pausing to study his face, she sighed as he fell into a deep sleep. Checking that his injured arm was bolstered between pillows, she then looked up and nodded to her.

Nikita took her cue and dismissed herself, going into the living room and glancing around at the pleasant contemporary furnishings with distracted interest. It was a beautiful house, modern and well lit with an open concept design that suited them both. Her heart ached for the cruel interruption they'd suffered as she tried to deal with her guilt. Never would she have thought they'd grab Birkhoff, not where he'd stationed himself at a safe distance in his car to monitor her progress via his com handheld. They'd both assumed him virtually out of harm's way.

Glancing over to his workstation now, she studied the three desks which he'd joined together and filled with an impressive assortment of computer equipment and monitors. His command chair was typically positioned in the center, similar to his set up in Operations. Her eyes filled again as she pictured him working here without Division's oppressive scrutiny, free to enjoy himself for once, snide comments and off-color jokes no doubt entertaining Alex. Wondering if he'd ever be able to do that again, she cringed at the look of his right arm in that huge cast and wrapping, the tips of his middle fingers black and bruised, perhaps permanently damaged.

_Oh Nerd, what have I done to you? Have you lost everything, because of me?_

"I hope you're happy," Alex's voice interrupted her. Stiffening, she turned to face her.

"Alex…"

"Get what you wanted, Nikita?" she said quietly, moving slowly toward the kitchen counter.

"I'm so sorry," she croaked, following her but stopping when she lifted a warning hand. "Alex I had no idea Division would find him, neither did he—"

"Spare me the innocent act," she ordered, her own eyes filling with unshed tears. She glanced away, shaking her head. "He's just…"

"Alex please—you don't know the whole story," Nikita pleaded, wondering how she could possibly explain. But she began telling Alex about his call to her cell phone alerting her of the existence of a guy named Sean and stating how suspicious he was of anyone who could stand up to Amanda and who apparently worked for someone else. "It had to be someone from Oversight, and Birkhoff ran his image facial recognition sites, finally linking him to the senator. But what really bothered him was the fact he caught the guy monitoring your trip to St. Petersburg," she continued. "He worried about your safety even though Sean didn't seem to be under Amanda's thumb. So you see, all he could think about was you, Alex."

Looking as if she might cry, Alex straightened and turned a hardened gaze upon her. "I want to hear the part about you manipulating him into going after Oversight with you."

"I did and I'm so sorry," she admitted, shaking her head. "He was right—we shouldn't have gone in that way and that soon. But knew I was going in with or without him—that's the only reason he came with me, to protect me and back me up."

"Neither of you should have gone," Alex stated, gesturing toward the guest room. "Do you have any idea what he's facing now, thanks to your little scheme? Did you take a good look at him, Nikita? Can you guess what the visible damage is, or try to imagine what else _she_ did to him?"

"No, of course not! The thought that Division would get him wasn't even considered, not by either of us!"

"Well it's certainly something to consider now—he may never regain full use of his right hand!"

Her voice broke on a sob as she turned and picked up the teakettle. Running the water, she kept her back to her while Nikita felt the shock of her news sink in. How could that be true? Is that prognosis something set in stone? _It couldn't be! Birkhoff is tough, and he's already been through so much!_ She'd seen him recover from that horrible wound through his shoulder that had nearly caused him to bleed to death, and he'd recovered full use of his arm. It couldn't be true—he _had _to recover from this, or she—

"You didn't see him before the drugs or pain killers," Alex continued, her voice low as she turned back to face her. "Something happened to him in Amanda's torture chamber, something even worse than what anyone can see. His eyes looked haunted, Nikita! God knows what she put him through, being secretly _attracted_ to him! You know how she is when she feels she's been betrayed."

She stared at her a moment. "Amanda? Attracted to Birkhoff? Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I've seen her sidle up to him, back when I worked with them in Operations," she croaked.

"But Amanda has a lover—"

"She liked him," Alex insisted, her eyes wide. "I've seen her try to touch him and how her eyes slide all over him even when he's avoiding her and cringing."

"Alex… I don't know what to say, or what to do," Nikita admitted. "Please, tell me what I can do! I feel horrible and guilty. I hate the way I act, rushing off like that without thinking things through!"

"That's right," Alex nodded. "That's exactly what you do, and it needs to stop."

"I know," she admitted, distracted by the water beginning to boil. "When he wakes up I'm going to tell him how sorry I am and ask him how I can make it up to him. I hope that someday he'll forgive me, and that maybe you'll forgive me too."

Alex's gaze shifted to her cell phone as it vibrated with a text message. Turning to shut off the kettle, Nikita picked up her phone, watching Alex pour tea into two glasses. She read Michael's message and closed it again.

"Michael's on his way," she stated, feeling relieved. He always seemed to smooth things out, which they sorely needed right now. "He'll be here in about a half hour."

"Good," Alex sighed, going to the refrigerator and taking out a quart of milk. Nikita watched as she made tea and brought the mugs to the counter. "Sit down. I really need a cup of tea, and you look like you do too."

"Thank you," Nikita answered, sliding onto one of the stools. Alex sat down, leaning her head upon her upturned hand. She looked exhausted. "You should get some rest too. I can let Michael in...we can talk later, that is assuming you let us stay?"

"You can both stay," she sighed, glancing toward the guest room. "Stay over if you want. You can sleep upstairs in the blue room. He'll want to talk to you too. But I think I'll lie down next to him, just to make sure he's ok. The doctor said he had a mild concussion, so he shouldn't be alone for long."

"Good idea," Nikita stated, realizing she'd been right about the concussion. _Poor Birkhoff._ "If there's anything I can do…"

"I'm set," she sighed, picking up her mug and starting toward the guest room. "You can cook whatever you want. Actually, that'd be a big help, for all of us."

"Ok," she nodded, watching her peek inside the door. She held her breath until she closed the door behind her. Leaning her forehead onto her arms, she released a tense breath and vowed to change her ways.

_**Amanda eyed Sonya, who did a double take when she looked up and saw her standing there. **_ Her fingers flew over the keyboard, though she often backed up and made corrections. She was good, and almost as fast as Birkhoff had once been. At that thought, Amanda smiled.

"Something wrong, Sonya?" she cooed, coming to stand over her as the girl shrunk visibly down into her seat. "You look a little out of sorts."

"We have a problem," she stated very carefully, averting her gaze as she continued working. "I don't know how it's happened, but someone started an automatic remote data dump of everything we own—all of Division's files and data are being copied and sent somewhere—and I mean everything!"

Frowning, she leaned over her shoulder and winced at the scrolling thermometers layering her screen. "Data dump? But how on earth—well for God's sake, stop it!"

"I can't—it's impossible!" Sonya cried, glancing up with a panic stricken expression. "There's some kind of lock on the dump and I've no idea how to stop it! It even looks like it's been programmed remotely."

Amanda straightened, crossing her arms as anger flowed through her. "Birkhoff," she growled, making Sonya look up. "I don't know how he got away or how he did it, but you've got to find a way to stop it. What is the destination?"

"That's just it," Sonya admitted. "I've no idea—there's a security lock on it which I've been trying to trace all night—wait, where are you going?"

"Forget it—Birkhoff outsmarted us, but we're not idiots! Put out a general alarm to evacuate, now!"

"Evacuate? But how—"

Amanda grabbed her mike, nodding toward the board. "Broadcast me throughout the facility," she ordered. "Hurry, or this place is going to be crawling with federal agents. You don't want to get caught, do you?"

_**Alex glared at Nikita and Michael through the window, tempted to slam the lid down on the pot.**_ Aware of Birkhoff still sleeping in the next room, she set it back in place and quietly laid the spoon upon the counter. Chicken soup—good for whatever ails you, they say. She had to admit she was grateful for Nikita's cooking up the soup, but hardened her heart against her again when she noted the tall bottle of pain killers on the counter. Resisting the urge to sneak back in to check on him again for what must be the 30th time, she tried to summon some amount of hope. He'd looked so pale and battered that it broke her heart, and she knew something even deeper than the damage to his hand was tormenting him. How they were going to get through the next few weeks without him getting an infection was beyond her, the warning signs still taunting her to fear. The K wires were so thin they could dislodge at any time and migrate inside his hand, up his arm and into his heart—

_No, I will not think about that! _she resolved, tiptoeing back toward the guest room to look in on him. Quietly approaching the bed, she stood studying his face as he slept.

_His hair needs to be washed, _she made a mental note. How he could take a shower with his arm in a plastic bag was beyond her. A bath might be a better choice, but washing his hair was going to be a challenge with him recovering from the concussion. Still, as she pictured him sitting with his back to the sink as she poured warm water over his head and gently washed his hair, she felt strangely comforted. It was something she'd done in the shower with him, and she blushed at the thought of their other activities in there.

_Wanna give me a raincheck? _he'd teased the day she'd run upstairs to get ready to go back to work. Now, she thought dismally, it could be weeks until they could manage that, or much of anything else. She stared at his troubled expression, even in sleep, her comfort vanishing.

_He's different, _she admitted, picturing that horrible vacant look in his eyes and the traumatized expression he'd had when she'd found him in that chair. She remembered him telling her about his recurring PTSD from the attack he'd suffered in prison, wondering if this might have been even worse. _What if Amanda had attacked him in the same way?_

To distract herself from going too deep into her fears of the unknown, she glanced at the clock and realized that he'd been sleeping since his surgery except for the groggy near-awake state from which he'd surfaced just after they'd arrived. She'd left her car in the hospital lot, telling herself it belonged to Division and that she'd never go back there, no matter what. Besides that, a rental couldn't be traced with the name she'd used. And the rental guy had delivered it to the hospital parking lot and found her at the surgical waiting room. She still had to return it somehow—maybe she could get Nikita or Michael to do that for them.

Sighing tiredly, even though she'd slept about an hour and a half at his side, she knew she had to go out and face Nikita again. It was nearly time for Birkhoff's evening antibiotic dose and she'd have to awaken him for it, even if he was still sleeping. Hating the thought, she almost wished for the IV to administer whatever he needed, just so that he could rest. Maybe she'd stall it another hour, and take the time to say hello to Michael, which so far she hadn't managed to do.

_**Amanda stiffened as the agents cuffed her hands behind her back, **_shaking her hair back over one shoulder. "You men are mistaken if you think you have anything on me," she stated regally. "I suggest that you unhand me before I'm forced to press charges—"

"Lady you'd better keep that pretty little mouth of your shut before you regret it," the middle aged man in charge stated, his expression bored. "I've already spoken with Ryan Fletcher down in your dungeon. He says you've illegally detained and drugged him these past few weeks, so spare us the innocent act."

"Ryan Fletcher?" she laughed. "There's no one here by that name—"

"Really? Well then you might consider the reams of data downloading at my headquarters proving otherwise," he smirked. "You've been had, lady, and you can thank Agent Birkhoff for throwing you this little farewell party."

"There's no Agent Birkhoff here either," she stated, planting her stiletto heels a wider distance apart to keep her balance. "Chatter and false documents pour in from all over the world, here, most of them fake. I don't know why you'd even mention such a preposterous notion—"

"Oh this isn't fake," he smiled. "No, the data he's set up to decrypt as it rolls in from lockdown has all been verified through Shadowpol, which has been up and running for several months now. "

She laughed cynically. "_Agent Birkhoff? Shadow-pol?_ Gentlemen, I can assure this is all a huge hoax engineered by a traitor and white collar criminal who no longer works here! He's just a disgruntled ex-employee you really shouldn't take seriously—"

"_Agent _Birkhoff is a highly respected deep cover operative who's been supplying the Justice Department with a steady inflow of incriminating evidence on your little operation here," he stated, lifting his chin. "Which, by the way is officially terminated as of right now—let's go."

"You're insane!" she laughed. "Birkhoff was my IT chief, nothing more. Honestly, you can't expect me to believe he works for the Justice Department? The very idea is ludicrous!"

"I'm afraid that's not exactly true," he smirked. "Take her to the van, boys."

_Fools! _"Whatever tales you choose to believe don't concern me," she insisted. "I've been on staff at Division since its inception, and you can verify my records at the CIA."

"The CIA has had you under surveillance for just as many years, as was your dearly friend Percy," he stated, following alongside them.

"Just a minute!" she huffed, trying to holding her ground but unsuccessful when they literally picked her up. "You're hurting me—and I am an employee of the federal government with a very high level security clearance—"

"Which is about to be revoked," he snorted, shaking his head. "You're officially out of business, lady."

"I demand to speak to my lawyer!" she shouted, outraged by their rough handling. "Put me down—I will walk, damn you!"

_**He stirred slowly, finally turning his head on the pillow. **_She sat down at his side, her gaze devouring the masculine lines of his face, no matter how battered. She swiped at the tears, telling herself she would not cry anymore—it would only upset him. His lids fluttered and half opened, his dark blue gaze clearing nicely. She smiled brightly, leaning close as she touched his cheek. Thankfully, it was cooler to the touch. His scraggly beard was coming in more fully, she noticed.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said gently, gently tracing his whiskered chin. "How you feelin?"

He stretched a bit, blinking despite the drawn curtains. His gaze focused and dropped to her lips. "Hey," he sighed thickly, glancing down at his arm. "You been here long?"

"All day," she sighed in mock boredom, laughing softly as he glanced up with a frown. "No—I'm just checking on you for the 100th time."

"Really?" he sighed, lifting his good hand to rub his eyes. "What time is it?"

"5 p.m. Why—you have someplace you'd rather be?"

Her words registered and he almost smiled. "In the shower with you," he sighed, closing his eyes. She stared at him a moment, wondering if she'd heard him correctly. Then her hear leapt with joy as she leaned down and gently kissed his lower lip.

"Is that so?" she whispered, gently smoothing his hair. "The doctor said you can't get your arm wet for at least three wks."

"I'll use a plastic bag," he drawled, closing his eyes as he stretched his legs beneath the blankets. "God I feel mummified."

"That's from the twilight anesthesia and pain killers."

He opened his eyes, gazing up at her. "More like the Twilight Zone."

She nodded. "You hungry?"

He considered it a moment. "Yeah…I haven't eaten anything since…?"

"There's homemade chicken soup …it should be done in a few minutes actually."

"Then help me up," he croaked, lifting his head.

"Not so fast," she warned, her hand in the middle of his chest. "You have to be careful and take it easy."

He paused, glancing toward the door for a moment. "We alone?"

She pursed her lips, avoiding his gaze. "Nikita's here, Michael too."

"Then I'm definitely getting up."

"You do have to take your meds," she admitted, rising to help him get up.

"Got some catching up to do," he stated, his voice hoarse.

She took his arm as he stood, wobbling a bit until he got his balance. "You need a shirt or sweater," she stated, reaching for his oversized sweatshirt and maneuvering it up his good arm.

"Thanks," he sighed as she pulled it up over his shoulders and halfway down his injured arm. At least it was draped over his arm, providing some warmth. "I need to use the bathroom first."

She walked with him over to the door and waited while he went in, shutting it behind him. They were still somewhat private with each other's personal needs, except of course for showering together. And doing pretty much everything else. Longing filled her heart as she went toward the outer door and waited, giving him his privacy. When he came out she smiled up at him, opening the door. The scent of chicken soup assaulted her nose, making her stomach growl.

"I'm starving too," she admitted, taking his arm as they walked out toward the kitchen area.

Michael stiffened and looked up, Nikita at his side on the couch. "Hey," he greeted him, getting up and coming toward him. "How you feeling?"

"Not as bad as I look," Birkhoff nodded, lowering himself to the bar stool while Alex picked up a bowl to ladle him some soup. "When you get here?"

"A few hours ago," Michael answered, eyeing him as Nikita came to his side.

She reached up to push back a strand of her hair, a weak smile on her lips. "Hi, Birkhoff," she said softly, her eyes filled with pain.

"You ok?" he asked her, clearing his throat as Alex positioned the bowl before him, spoon stuck into broth.

She nodded. "Yeah…I'm so sorry, for getting you involved. I hope you can forgive me, someday."

He stared at her a moment, averted his glance and pursed his lips. "I'm a big boy. I knew what I was getting into," he stated, looking up. "Still do."

Michael eyed her with a hopeful expression and they all seemed to relax. Alex studied him covertly, her eyes wide as they shifted from him to Nikita. But she said nothing.

"I can't imagine being in Amanda's clutches all that time," Michael stated, shaking his head. "What'd she do?"

Birkhoff cradled the bowl with both hands, staring into it. "She smashed my hand with a hammer, then threatened to fry my brain with a cranial needle," he sighed.

The room went very quiet as they all tried to imagine the horrors of being tortured by Amanda.

"But hey, your call came in just at the right second," he added, looking up. "Thanks…for trying to get me out."

"Alex got you out," Nikita corrected, glancing shyly at her.

"I couldn't have done it if you hadn't been on the phone," she stated truthfully, deciding to forgive her since Birkhoff seemed to have. It was the least she could do.

"It's not her fault, Alex," he said gently, eyeing her until she nodded. He glanced at Michael. "I met their new IT girl…she's good. Picked up my signal when I took a second to switch. That's how they found me."

Michael grimaced. "Sonya…yeah, she's good but not as good as you. No way," he stated, accepting a bowl of soup from Alex. Then she handed one to Nikita, who thankfully sat down next to Michael.

Alex took her place opposite her husband, studying his subdued expression. To her delight he took a few spoonfuls of chicken meat and noodles, closing his eyes in appreciation. She lifted her spoon and tasted it, glancing at Nikita. "This is wonderful, thank you."

Nikita nodded, shifting her attention back to Birkhoff. "You were right," she sighed, waiting until he turned his head and looked at her. "I flew too close to this one. I never imagined you'd be the one to get hurt. I'm really sorry, Birkhoff."

He nodded. "I'm just glad they didn't get you too."

Alex eyed Michael. "So what happens now? You going back?"

"I might, just to punch Amanda in the gut," he said soberly, eyeing Birkhoff. "Wanna come?"

He swallowed another spoonful and accepted the antibiotic pill that Alex shook into his palm. "No use now," he sighed, placing it in his mouth and lifting his water glass. He drank half the contents and set it down carefully. "By now they should have cleared the place out."

They stared at him, waiting for his explanation. When he ate another spoonful, Alex stretched her hand out and rested it over his forearm. "What do you mean 'they should have cleared the place out'?"

He looked up. "The data dump," he sighed, stirring the contents of his bowl.

"What data dump?" Michael demanded softly, leaning toward him. "Seymour, what have you done?" he asked, a smile creeping over his features.

Birkhoff shrugged his good shoulder. "Got any more of this soup?"

_c. 2012 by Christine Levitt_

10


	21. Ch 21 A Hope and A Future

_**Ch 21 A Hope and A Future**_

"_**We'll all be going on vacation soon," Birkhoff stated, meeting Alex's shocked gaze.**_ "Or job hunting, now that I blew Division out of the water."

She stared at him in shock. "What do you mean, you blew Division out of the water?"

"Don't you remember, at the loading dock?" he prompted, distracted by the way she was looking at him, like he was some kind of hero. "I programmed the data dump from there, if I remember correctly."

He could see her mind working back through the rescue, which remained a bit foggy in his own mind.

"You mean you did all that from the security pad?" she choked, clearly impressed. "I thought you just took out the cameras so that we could escape without being seen."

"That too," he nodded, eyeing Michael and Nikita. "I had it set up for weeks, just waiting for the right moment. By the time Amanda was done with me I'd had enough. By now all records from Division's inception til yesterday should have been forwarded to the Justice Department."

"Birkhoff," Nikita stated in amazement, "what are you saying?"

"He turned Division in," Michael said quietly, his eyes narrowed. "How on earth did you manage that?"

The enormity of what he'd done suddenly overwhelmed him, leaving him feeling dazed and adrift. After all, he'd spent most of his adult life with Division. "It's a long story..."

"The Justice Department…" Michael said distractedly, trying to accept the fact that they were exposed. "That means they know about _us_, and everything we've done…"

"Dear God," Nikita croaked, eyeing Alex. But she leaned toward him, stretching her fingers up along his good arm.

"Hey, you ok?" she asked softly. "You look like you're in pain..."

He sighed with relief, trying to ignore their shocked expressions. "I guess I could use a painkiller," he admitted, watching her unscrew the cap before handing him a pill. Feeling conspicuous he nevertheless took it, washing it down with the rest of the water.

"Dude you can't leave us hanging," Michael laughed tightly, eyeing Nikita. "Come on—spill the rest of the beans cause none of us even had a _clue_ what you'd been planning."

He set the glass down, holding Alex's gaze. "I'm sorry I couldn't say anything," he said gently. "I didn't want you to be compromised while you were still working there."

"It's ok," she nodded, "I understand..."

"But—how long were you planning it, man? And how?" Michael marveled.

Nikita looked amused. "Don't tell us you have a secret contact at the Justice Department."

"Ah, in a way I do," he answered, meeting Alex's gaze once again. "I've been working for them for five years now, after Percy started going south and attracting attention."

"Then this means the black boxes are no longer worth anything!" Nikita stated, her eyes wide.

"That's right," he stated. "Don't worry, the department knows we were all recruited against our will, forced to do what we did under compulsion and threat of cancellation."

"Dude how on earth did you hide that kind of association?" Michael breathed, shaking his head.

"They approached me—trust me, it wasn't my idea," he admitted. "I lived in constant fear of being found out or dropped by the feds cause I just didn't trust them either. I had all kinds of escape routes planned, bags hid in every corner, secret stashes of cash and fake passports—don't even ask."

Nikita smiled, leaning closer to lay a hand on his good arm. "My goodness, Nerd—you've been busy!"

He nodded, relieved but feeling as if he'd betrayed all of them, especially Alex. He eyed her soberly. "The worst thing was hiding it from you," he told her. "A wife should know what her husband is up to,  
>at least in my book."<p>

Michael leaned forward, pinning him with a suspicious gaze. "How did this all come about?"

"Michael he's exhausted," Nikita waved dismissively. "It really doesn't matter now—"

"No, I'm curious," he insisted, earning a nod from Alex. "Go on."

He took a deep breath, shaking his head. "They jumped me one night when I was on my way home and hauled me into their offices," he stated, feeling the pill begin to work at releasing the iron grip of pain from his hand. "There really wasn't any choice, they were going after Percy no matter what. By agreeing to cooperate with them I'd be off the hook and free from prosecution."

"That's a good deal," Nikita admitted. "I'd have taken it, though the chance of Percy finding you out, or Amanda…"

"Percy suspected I was up to something," he stated, wincing inwardly at the memory of the second whipping. "He realized how opposed I was to joining Division from the beginning."

"So he didn't really trust you either," Michael concluded.

"Nobody trusted me and frankly I felt the same way," he admitted, eyeing Alex again. _Until you…_

Her gaze intensified and he knew the exact moment when she realized what he was thinking. She relaxed visibly, her fingers gently caressing his wrist under cover of the sleeve of his sweatshirt. His heart pounded in response and he held her gaze. Then Michael cleared his throat.

"Well, I must say it's been interesting," he stated, rising and taking Nikita's hand. "I'd like to hear more, so when you're feeling better we'll all sit down and share a beer while you regale us with the juicy details, how's that?"

"Sounds good," he nodded, eyeing them both. "You have to get goin'?"

"Yeah, we don't want to overstay our welcome," he announced, nodding to Alex as she got up and came to stand by his side, facing them. Taking his good arm, she pressed against his side.

"Thanks for coming," she sighed, eyeing Nikita in particular. "And thanks for your help."

"Don't mention it," Nikita said quietly, moving closer to kiss his cheek. "Take care of yourself, Nerd, ok?"

"Right boss," he nodded, draping his arm over Alex's shoulders. She gripped the back of his waistband, beneath his sweatshirt.

"We didn't use the bed so you don't have to change it," Nikita told Alex, who nodded. "You call us if you need anything, ok?"

Alex nodded. "Ok…thanks for the soup."

"My pleasure," Nikita said huskily, placing a hand on her arm. "When you're both ready to move your stuff out of your apartments let us know. We'll box everything up for you, but we'll need the keys."

"You don't have to do that," she answered, eyeing him questioningly. "What do you think?"

"I think we'll take you up on the offer," he admitted, half lifting his heavy cast. "I don't think I can do much for a while, so I'd appreciate it."

"Keys?" Michael asked, glancing toward his jacket where it lay draped over the bench. "Jacket pocket?"

"Yeah, thanks, man," he breathed, eyeing Nikita. "You too, Niki."

She bit her lower lip. "It's the least I can do," she murmured.

Michael came back, reaching for his good hand and grasping it awkwardly. "Call us anytime."

"Thanks," he replied, watching Alex hand her apartment keys to Nikita. Turning with her, they watched as they toward the door.

"Bye," Nikita waved, locking it behind them. Silence followed their departure. Outside they could hear both cars start up.

Birkhoff glanced down at his wife. "Hey princess," he sighed as she turned into him, hugging his waist as she tucked her face against his neck. He felt her shudder and rested his chin atop her head. "Shhhh… don't cry," he soothed as he held her as best he could.

"I hate seeing you in pain," she choked, lifting her head as tears dampened her cheeks. "I hate that horrible cast and what Amanda did to you. She needs to be punished."

"She will be," he assured her, feeling his own emotions suddenly break loose inside him. She hugged him, burying her face in the side of his collar. He gripped her tightly. "Hey, it's over, ok?" he soothed.

Backing toward the stool, he sat down and pulled her between his knees. She straightened, wiped at her eyes and studied him a moment. Then she pulled his head to her chest, cradling him close as he closed his eyes, inhaling her fragrance and accepting her comfort.

_Thank God for her,_ he thought, gripping her like a lifeline. Pain, anger, betrayal and grief surged within him as he fought breaking down himself. She cried softly for a little while, holding him close and pressing her cheek against his head. Then she shifted her hands to his head, gently guiding it back until she could look into his eyes.

"I love you so much," she said softly, her eyes captivating him. "When I saw you in that chair—"

Her voice broke and he studied her anguished expression, for once unable to speak. He could only guess how bad he'd looked, completely traumatized and having suffered several flashbacks while sitting strapped down to Amanda's chair.

"Thanks for coming for me," he choked, his throat tight. He didn't know how to tell her how much she meant to him, or how much he loved her right at this moment.

She bent to kiss him, her eyes traveling over his features. "You are so worth it," she whispered, gently caressing his cheek.

He held on, unable to speak. All he could do was look into her eyes, into her soul. Finally her expression brightened, and she chuckled softly.

"We make quite a pair, don't we?" she croaked, "two messed up nutcases."

He had to laugh, nodding his agreement. "Yeah, we sure do."

She looked around the kitchen, then at the clock. "It's almost 7…you want anything?"

He glanced toward the stove. "Actually, I am a little hungry."

Her face brightened. "That's a good sign! What would you like?"

He ran a hand over his face. "I don't care—anything."

"Really?" she sighed, disengaging herself. "It should probably be something light…how about scrambled eggs and toast?"

He nodded. "That sounds great—you don't mind?"

She smiled, sliding her hand off his shoulder as she went toward the refrigerator. "No of course not, why would I mind?"

"Because you look pretty wiped out yourself," he replied, watching her open the refrigerator door.

She frowned up at him. "That bad, huh?"

"No, I meant—"

"I'm kidding," she laughed, setting a block of cheese onto the cutting board. "I'm hungry too, so how about I make us a quick dinner and then we catch up on our sleep?"

He eyed her with a sly smile. "Just sleep?"

She paused, a saucy smile lighting her features as she eyed his arm. "Well what do you have in mind?"

He shrugged, smiling back at her. "Whatever materializes."

"Really?" she said thoughtfully, coming closer. "Actually, I'm not that tired even if I look it."

He reached out and grasped her hand. "You know, we haven't been together for a few days, with you going off to the Former Soviet Union and me being tortured and all…"

She curled a hand around his neck and moved close, her lips almost touching his. "You miss me, Daniel?"

He captured her lips, kissing her freely while she clung to him. Suddenly starved for her, he kissed her with mounting energy and desire. She moaned softly as he brushed his fingers down her neck and over her breast, cradling her waist while she stepped between his legs. Leaning into him, she kissed him back and they feasted on each other's love, finally drawing back and reveling in its power.

"God—I've missed you," he admitted, watching her waltz away, throwing him a provocative look over one shoulder.

"About that dinner," she mused, slowly taking down a bowl and taking the eggs and milk from the frig. He watched her every move, enjoying the fact that they were finally alone and he was conscious enough to truly appreciate her. Just looking at her had become his favorite pastime, and judging by the glow in her eyes and her suggestive smile, she liked it when he did so.

"What are you thinking about?" she cooed, breaking the eggs into the bowl and wiping her hands.

He laughed shortly. "You don't want to know."

She smiled, her gaze dropping to his lips. "Try me."

"Well for one thing I was considering how to hold you properly with one arm," he stated. With his hand effectively numbed for now he knew he wouldn't have any pain but the logistics were definitely going to be a challenge.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," she whispered, a suggestive smile playing about her lips. Whipping the eggs and milk with a whisk, she eyed him directly. "If not, I've got a pretty good imagination myself."

He tilted his head, running his gaze down her petite form. "Really? That's comforting."

"You worry too much Birkhoff," she scolded gently, reaching over to turn on the burner. Upon it she placed a nonstick frying pan. He watched as she dropped a spoonful of margarine into it, which sizzled tantalizingly and made his stomach growl in response.

"I know," he sighed, meeting her gaze, "it's a bad habit. Want some help?"

She looked horrified. "Certainly not—you sit there and look sexy while I cook—I need the practice."

He huffed at her label. "You're the sexy one," he argued, thoroughly enjoying their banter. "Although I do feel pretty turned on imagining you cooking with nothing but an apron on."

She gasped in mock offense, facing him with her hands on her hips. "That's pretty bold, Birkhoff—I can tell you're feeling more like your old self."

"Funny, I don't feel myself at all," he croaked, getting up and going to her side. Sliding his arm around her he pulled her close, baiting her with a teasing kiss. "Ah…that's better."

She planted a hand on his stomach, gently guiding him back toward the stool. "You sit and rest."

"Yes, ma'am—but I am pretty hungry."

She poured the egg mixture into the hot pan and looked over her shoulder at him. "Then I'd better be quick at making dinner, hadn't I?"

"I didn't mean food necessarily," he stated, raising his brows suggestively as she laughed.

"We'll see what we can do about both, shall we?" she teased.

"Definitely," he sighed, feeling the brooding darkness and weight of horror lifting from him at last. Watching her drop two piece of pumpernickel into the toaster before she tipped the pan to settle the eggs, he felt content just to watch her.

She turned and eyed him critically, noting his pensive mood. Her smile faded. "You ok?" she asked softly, the warmth in her eyes tugging at his heart.

He nodded. "Yeah…just admiring the woman I love."

She relaxed and smiled, turning her attention back to the pan. "If I don't break these it'll be an omelet, otherwise it's scrambled for dinner."

"Whatever," he sighed, leaning his good arm on the counter.

She glanced up at him with a smile. "Daniel, did you mention something about a vacation before?"

He thought back and nodded. "I believe I did."

She nodded. "I know you were speaking to Michael, but I was wondering… since we are still newlyweds and I'm officially out of work?"

He chuckled softly. "Where would you like to go?"

"Let me see…we obviously can't go far or do much until you get those wires taken out," she stated. "It had crossed my mind that you might have had some ideas, being the master planner you are…"

"Oh I've got a plan," he sighed, admiring her beautiful smile, "but it's a surprise."

She squinted suspiciously at him. "Are you by any chance hinting at a honeymoon, Birkhoff?"

"I am," he admitted.

"But you're not going to tell me where, or when?"

"Nope."

She frowned at him. "Not even a hint?"

He pursed his lips, considering it. "It's someplace warm—how's that?"

"It's a good start," she replied. "Now, when?"

"Well if my recovery goes as planned and given the arrangements I made, a month from now."

She brightened, distracted by the popping up of the toast. Turning off the burner, she reached up and took down two plates. These she set out, adding silver, margarine, ketchup and two glasses of tea which she'd been brewing. Sliding the eggs next to the toast, she placed them before him and came to his side.

He pulled her close as she slid her arms over his shoulder, leaning into his side. "Anything else?" she whispered, her lips close to his.

He stretched his neck and kissed her gently, then again. "How about the Caribbean…"

She squealed with delight and kissed his cheek. "Perfect—I'm satisfied for now," she teased, eyeing the food. She glanced toward the sofa, now bathed in golden light by the setting sun. "Want to retire to the living room?"

"Sure," he breathed, rising slowly and ignoring his throbbing hand. Picking up his plate he followed her. She set everything on the coffee table as he sat down. When she came back with the rest and sat next to him, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thanks sweetheart."

"Don't mention it," she smiled, handing him a fork as they leaned back and gazed out at the golden lit forest before them. Picking up a piece of toast, she bit into it and eyed him happily.

He forked the eggs into his mouth, salivating at texture with just a hint of cheddar on his tongue. He swallowed and nodded. "This is great."

She stuffed a forkful into her mouth and chewed, moaning with pleasure while he watched. He paled, staring at the passionate expression on her face. But she laughed, resting her hand on his knee. "Just getting you in the mood," she explained with a sly smile.

"Great," he choked, waving a piece of toast at her. "Thanks, but I really don't need the help."

"Is that so," she stated with a smug smile, stabbing more eggs with her fork and holding it before him. "Now eat."

He opened his mouth to accept her offering, watching as she put her plate down. "This is delicious."

She leaned her head on his shoulder, sliding her palm down his stomach. "No, you're delicious."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Come on—I've seen how bad I look."

"You'll recover," she sighed, "and I love you. Now finish up so we can neck."

"Alright," he agreed, shaking his head. "Slave driver."

She giggled, resting her head back on his shoulder. "After I have my way with you, you _will _tell me all the details about our honeymoon."

He eyed her appreciatively. "Will I?"

"But first we'll have to empty our apartments," she stated, watching him pick up another piece of toast, which she snatched from his hand.

"Ok."

"And you have a doctor's appointment next week."

"And one after that, not to mention occupational therapy."

"That will take about a month," she guessed. "Then we'll be free."

He swallowed the last bit of egg and eyed her intently. "We will need to make a trip to DC..."

She eyed him suspiciously. "What's in DC?"

"My new headquarters," he sighed. "I'll probably get a call for debriefing soon, but will still have to sort through some things with the department."

She looked thoughtful. "I want to hear all about that too…I forgot you still have a job, don't you?"

"Yeah, but it'll be a lot less stress," he predicted. "And no torture, as far as I know."

She raised her brows. "No cleaners? No guns or data breaching?"

He chuckled. "That I can't promise you, at least about the data breaching."

"What exactly will you be doing?" she asked as he threaded his fingers through hers and leaned back.

"They said something about heading up a western division of Interpol to monitor Eastern Europe."

Her eyes widened. "Interpol? You work for—wait a minute…you designed what was it? Shadow-pol? That's Interpol?"

He nodded. "Yeah…I have been pretty busy."

She smiled mischievously. "So that's why you were too busy to date."

He snorted. "Get real."

"I'm glad, whatever the reason," she sighed, kissing his cheek. "It saved you from all those other girls I'd have to compete with."

"Sweetheart, when you arrived on scene there _was _no competition," he stated. "For me, it was love at first sight, though I didn't quite realize it at the time."

Her expression softened. "I know I was a goner the first time I saw you walk into computer class."

He lifted his hand to her cheek and kissed her. "I didn't even care about the rules against fraternizing, not when I really began to notice you."

She snuggled against him. "Me neither."

He studied her a moment, then nodded toward the guest room. "How about we go to bed, wife?"

She smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

_c. 2012 by Christine Levitt _

9


	22. Ch 22 Revenge and Epilogue

_**Ch 22**_ _**Revenge Note: Sorry for the delay in posting …enjoy this LAST chapter **_

_**Birkhoff adjusted the bandage over his knuckles and stretched his stiff fingers. **_Wincing slightly, he glanced down at his dress shirt, reaching around his back to tuck it into his belt. Clearing his throat and glancing at Alex's profile, he tried to prepare himself for what was about to happen. She looked up and met his gaze, her dark red lips curling toward a smile as her eyes traveled over his face like a caress.

"Don't worry," she reassured him, reaching for his hand. "You look great."

"I wish I hadn't shaved," he admitted, squeezing her cold fingers. "I'm dressed like some sort of Wall Street executive, for God's sake."

She swallowed a giggle and pressed against his side. "It'll grow back," she answered, eyeing his cut and styled hair. "To be honest, I kind of like the look."

He frowned, studying her expression. "Oh no you don't—don't go getting any ideas about reforming me," he warned. "I only agreed to clean up for the sake of the interviews and debriefing."

"Well you clean up nicely, Birkhoff."

"Yeah right," he muttered, "gotta look good for the upcoming confrontation, too."

She gasped in mock horror. "You don't mean you dressed up for _Amanda?_"

"Hell no," he groaned, tensing when they heard the metallic grate of bars clanging down the hall. He turned his head to stare down the long corridor, waiting until he saw four guards coming toward them, escorting an orange clad woman whose hands and ankles were bound with chains. Smiling sarcastically, he touched Alex's waist. "And here she comes _now_."

Cringing inwardly, he watched as Amanda lifted her head and met his gaze with a smug expression. Secretly gladdened by her makeup-free face and frizzy hair, he wondered how on earth she managed without all her cosmetics, heels and designer clothing. Her eyes lit up as she took note of Alex, and she smiled in challenge as she was escorted to within ten feet of where they stood.

"She hasn't changed a bit," Alex sighed, leaning her head upon his shoulder.

As she was escorted into the room opposite them, a different guard approached them. "Mr. and Mrs. Birkhoff?" he greeted them, gesturing toward the other door. "Come with me, please."

Following him into the room they glanced toward the place where Amanda was seated, flanked by her guards. Facing a table of three distinguished looking corrections officials, she lifted her chin with calm acceptance. His lawyer, Malcolm Yates eyed them without expression as they took their seats.

"And her majesty's royal court is now in session," Birkhoff said under his breath. Alex squeezed his thigh and shifted closer. He lifted his good arm and curled it around her shoulders. She pressed into his side, distracting him with her closeness and fragrance.

As the hearing was called to order he forced himself to concentrate, despite the long summarization of the charges and review process filled with legal mumbo jumbo. Amanda glanced his way with a gaze like liquid nitrogen, her lips pinched with anger. He forced a smile and shifted his attention back just in time for the conclusions.

"Based on the intricacies and long list of the accused's crimes, which span two decades and encompass an international scope," the man seated in the middle stated, "the board has decided to expedite your processing and formal extradition to face prosecution and sentencing. This concludes our review and this hearing. Good day."

Birkhoff shot to his feet. "Wait a second—you can't just let her go!" he objected, ignoring the guard who came to his side and touched his arm.

Amanda turned her head and smiled coolly at him, her brows suspended in protest.

"Mr. Birkhoff, I'm afraid the board has already decided—"

"She'll slip through their fingers before anyone's even noticed!" he shouted despite his lawyer's shake of the head. "Don't you people realize you've got the female equivalent of Mengele and Himmler sitting here?"

"Mr. Birkhoff our decision has been made," the chairman stated. "Though we realize the severity of what you've suffered—"

"She smashed my hand with a hammer and was going to lobotomize me!" he shouted, pulling against the guard's hold. "And now you're just gonna let her go?"

"I'm afraid the nature of her crimes is beyond our jurisdiction and scope. But I will allow you to speak briefly with her in private, with guards present—I'll give you five minutes."

Trying to control his anger he shook off the guard's hold and nodded. "Alright."

They waited for the board members to leave while Amanda got to her feet, eyeing him with a bored expression. He walked up to her, eyeing the guards who averted their gazes. Staring her down, he only succeeded in making her look amused.

He leaned closer. "You're sick," he said in a low voice, pointing a finger at her. "_You_ need deep therapy, not to mention a few years of hard labor."

"I wouldn't judge, Seymour," she scolded as if talking to a child. "You were the one who betrayed Division, which hired you to perform a service to your _country_."

"Don't talk to me about serving my country!" he ground out.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "You're a pathetic excuse for a man, and should be the one standing here in chains."

"Yeah well you're a pathetic excuse for a shrink, you know that?" he shot back. "I wish you could just feel a _fraction_ of the pain you caused me and countless others."

"Go ahead," she challenged, lifting her chin. "Take your best shot, Seymour—though I doubt you're man enough to do anything."

He stared at her, tempted but keeping to his rule never to hit a woman. Not even Amanda, though she certainly deserved it.

"Alex, let's get out of here," he said in disgust, turning away. He started for the door, pausing when Alex moved into the position he'd vacated.

"He's too much of a gentleman to hit you," she said sweetly, tilting her head to study Amanda's cool expression.

"Come on, sweetheart," he encouraged, waving dismissively at Amanda. "She's not worth it."

Just then Alex reared back and swung, planting her fist in the center of Amanda's stomach. Gasping in surprise and outrage, she doubled over as the guards eyed Alex in amazement. She wheezed, trying to catch her breath while Alex smiled.

"But I'm no gentleman," she chimed, brushing her hands as if finished with performing a dirty job. "_That _was for my husband… Rot in hell."

At that she turned and walked to his side, as he studied her in surprise, then Amanda, who drew a huge breath as she was pulled up then escorted out.

He slid his hand low around her hip, smiling down at her. "Wow," he breathed, "that was amazing, Princess."

She gripped his arm and rose to her toes, kissing his cheek. "Thought you'd like it..it was the least I could do for you."

"Oh I wanted to punch her," he admitted, walking her back down the corridor in the opposite direction. "I had all I could do to restrain myself. But thanks—I appreciate you stepping in."

"My pleasure," she sighed. "I'm thankful the guards didn't protest."

"You kiddin?" he chuckled. "They were all eyes, watching you."

They met his lawyer at the lobby. "Uh oh," he moaned, glancing down at her. "Looks like I've got more papers to sign."

"You're almost done," he reassured them, smiling as they came up to him. "You punch her?"

Birkhoff sighed and shook his head. "No—I was brought up to respect women, even if they don't deserve it."

"I just need a few more signatures before you go," Malcolm insisted, handing over the file folder. He glanced at Alex. "Make sure he reviews and signs everything during your red eye, ok?"

"Will do," she nodded, following Birkhoff into the waiting room.

He sat down and examined the documents, scanning and signing them before he handed them back. "We done now?" he asked, frowning at the folder Alex clutched to her chest.

"For now," Malcolm nodded. "Did you debrief with the Department?"

"Yeah—it took all morning," he said, getting up and draping his arm over Alex's shoulders as they turned to leave.

"How's the hand?" Malcolm remembered as they stepped out into the sunny afternoon.

"Getting there," he stated, flexing his fingers. "Still a little nerve damage but hopefully it will regenerate. Hey, thanks for all your help man."

"No problem—my bill's in the mail," Malcolm chuckled. "How long's your flight?"

"Six hours."

"Well, have a good one. You can express mail the trust and estate forms to me when you've finished."

"Alright, thanks for getting everything together for us."

"No trouble at all," Malcolm smiled. "Have a good flight, and enjoy the house hunting, ok?"

Birkhoff waved his good hand as Alex unlocked the car. "We will…thanks again."

Malcolm waved and headed off toward his own car. Climbing into the car, Birkhoff glanced at Alex. "I'm glad that's finally over."

"Yeah me too," she admitted, putting on her sunglasses. "Ready to go?"

"More than ready," he agreed, settling back. Leaning his head on the head rest, he eyed her soberly. "So ends the final chapter of our saga."

"Now it's off to another galaxy," she smiled, backing up the car. "Hold on valiant warrior—ship's about to take off."

She backed out of the space and shifted, burning rubber as she started off. "That's my princess," he laughed, eyeing the empty road ahead. "The Rebellion forces finally disperse and head home, hopefully for the last time."

"You can bet on it," she smiled, driving onto the highway and heading for the airport.

"I'm looking forward to the future, now that we actually have one," he sighed, reaching for her hand. She laced her fingers through his as he settled their hands atop his thigh. "Thanks for being part of it."

She glanced at him with a tiny smile. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

_**EPILOGUE**_

_**Gathering Nathan close, he slowly got up, eyeing Alex intently. **_Her news still hadn't completely registered, still leaving him with a sense of disbelief and wonder. As if sensing his regard she looked up from her notes and met his gaze, her expression softening to a beautiful glow. Her eyes dropped to the sleepy little boy in his arms.

"I'm putting him to bed," he whispered, cradling his son's head against the base of his neck. She nodded, watching him climb the stairs to the bedroom.

Gently laying him down, he lifted the blanket and covered him up. Nathan snuggled against his pillow, his thumb automatically going to his mouth. He sighed in sleepy content as Birkhoff gently patted his shoulder. Then he leaned down and kissed the top of his head. Marveling at the gift of his son, he stood studying him a moment, feeling a deep sense of peace settle inside him. Reaching over, he turned on the monitor and smiled as Nathan dragged his teddy bear close.

"'Night, little man," he whispered, turning and heading for the stairs. When he reached the last step Alex set aside her work and looked up, her eyes inviting. Her skin had that peachy which made her look even more desirable. Then he realized it was the glow of motherhood, one he should have recognized again.

"He settle down?" she asked as he came and sat next to her.

"Yeah…he was already half asleep," he sighed, gathering her against his side and kissing her temple. "Kid's a champion sleeper too, thank God."

She chuckled, laying her head on his shoulder. "He wanted bedtime earlier, after being up so late last night."

He stared down into her eyes, slowly lifting a hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. She lifted her face for his kiss, then he gently slid his hand low over her stomach. "How's our little one doing?"

She studied him a moment, then smiled gloriously, planting her hand over his. "Coming along nicely, I think…why?"

He shrugged. "It was just a polite question about your condition."

She looked skeptical. "Which you've barely acknowledged up until now."

He looked thoughtful. "I guess I'm coming to terms with it," he smiled. "You do have that motherly glow about you."

"Motherly glow?" she chuckled, shaking her head. "That's not very romantic."

"Romance? You want romance?" he smiled, kissing her lips hesitantly. "Actually, now that you mention it—"

"I knew it," she laughed, shoving him away.

He knew her teasing mannerisms well and quickly pulled her into his arms. She breathed a contented sigh as he quickly lost himself in her kiss. Leaning back, he drew her over him and closed his eyes while the magic between them built. In five years of married life their passion for each other had only grown and matured. As she teased him with her kisses he slowly became aware of a sound, his mind registering the approach of a car. His hands stilled in her hair and she even lifted her head, listening to the engine die.

"Someone's here," she whispered, dipping her head to kiss the underside of his jaw. He stiffened when three raps hit the door.

"Please God, no!" he moaned, slowly disengaging himself when more knocks followed. She got up and followed him to the door, waiting while he checked the security camera and smiled.

"Well what do you know," he sighed, opening the door.

Michael stood there with Nikita, a sheepish expression on his face as Nikita lifted her hand and flashed a diamond toward them. Alex glanced at it, eye Michael's stoic expression and squealed with delight. Rushing into Nikita's embrace, she squealed with delight as Nikita laughed happily.

Birkhoff leaned forward and extended his hand, which Michael clasped gently, a frown creasing his brow.

"It's fine," Birkhoff reassured him, squeezing his hand as tightly as he could. They shook almost as firmly as he'd done in the past before the injury Amanda had inflicted. It seemed his months of therapy had finally paid off.

"How are you both?" Michael greeted them, throwing him an embarrassed smile as Nikita disengaged herself and stared at him with a joyful expression.

"Hey Nerd," she beamed as he held out his arms.

"Hey yourself," he chuckled, hugging her as she gripped him warmly. They stayed that way longer than he felt comfortable with, then she stepped back and gripped Michael's arm.

"Can we come in?" she teased, a light in her eyes as she eyed him and Alex both.

"'course," he replied, draping his arm over Alex's shoulders as they moved aside for them to pass.

Michael whistled low as he entered and looked around. "Nice place."

"This is amazing!" Nikita gushed, glancing around but focusing on them once he'd shut the door. "Hey you guys look great—but where's Mini Nerd?"

"He went to bed early," Alex laughed as Birkhoff shook his head. "His name's Nathan, remember it."

"Can we get you anything?" Alex offered, her fingers tugging the back of his belt.

"No, thanks," Nikita waved, sitting down next to Michael.

"Yeah, we had dinner in the city," Michael nodded. "Thought we'd come up just to say hello. I promise we won't stay late."

"That's fine," he waved, feeling suddenly embarrassed by Nikita's frank stare.

"How's the hand?" she asked, eyeing it intently. "Looks a lot better than the last time we saw it."

"It's healed up pretty well," he admitted, eyeing her back as his expression sobered. "We ok?"

"Of course we are," she insisted, smiling in relief. "You're better, and you and Alex are finally together for good so everything's fine. We're practically family, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, always have been."

"And when will you two make yourselves legal?" Alex wanted to know, meeting her husband's silent regard.

Birkhoff kept thinking of what they'd interrupted when they arrived, sending her a look of promise for later.

"We already did," Nikita admitted, turning the plain band below her diamond ring before she held up her hand again. "We tied the knot on November 20th."

"Great," Birkhoff smiled, eyeing the both. "Congratulations, and it's about time."

"Thanks—we even bought a house in Vail," Michael stated, leaning back and looking more relaxed. "Business is good too—I never have to wear a suit to go to work. Or leave, for that matter."

"Man I'm jealous," Birkhoff admitted, running a hand through his hair. "Justice Department insists on suits and ties whenever I have to appear in the main office. It's really an annoyance."

"You in a suit?" Nikita smirked, covering her mouth. "Sorry—I'm used to seeing you in skater sweats, jeans and sneakers."

"He looks amazing cleaned up," Alex sighed happily, shooting him a warm look of appreciation. "I don't even need a GQ issue to enjoy the latest fashions."

"You're looking pretty great yourself," Nikita smiled, as if knowing their secret.

"It's the glow of motherhood," Birkhoff teased, knowing Alex hated being fussed over. She stuck her tongue out at him in protest. "It's true—you glow with health, your hair gets thicker and softer and your skin is—"

"I think they get the picture, honey," Alex interrupted, blushing profusely.

"You two are so cute together," Nikita said, shaking her head. "I guess Michael and I were wrong in thinking it'd never last."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Michael sighed. "I'll admit I was judgmental and critical. Forgive me?"

"All is forgiven," Birkhoff stated, sitting opposite them. Alex settled at his side, pressing close. "So, catch us up on everything you've been doing."

"Yes," Alex agreed, taking his hand in hers.

Half listening to Michael and Nikita share their news, Birkhoff was distracted by the feel of Alex's leg against his and the gentle fragrance of her hair. He felt impatient for what they'd interrupted, telling himself he was being selfish even though he couldn't help how he hungered for Alex's touch. He'd just gotten back from a weekend trip and they had yet to be together, but listening to the sound of Nathan turning over in his sleep he felt himself calm down. Picturing his son's expression in sleep, he felt a sense of contentment and was thankful for what the changes in his life.

He had a beautiful wife and a good marriage, a healthy and intelligent son and another child on the way. He worked from home most of the time but was responsible for a staff of 20 agents, and only had to fly to Washington quarterly to brief his superiors and sit through additional meetings. His father was coming for a visit in a month and would be bringing his sister and her daughter, and he looked forward to seeing her after all these years. They had a long way to go toward being a family again, but he felt that somehow they'd find their way.

As he glanced over at Alex and thought of his own growing family he marveled at how far they'd come, not without their own hurdles and conflicting schedules. Her children's book was almost ready for release, and she was already working on the next one for her contract. And she had his full support.

"Family comes first," he agreed with Michael, glad to learn that he'd finally won full custody for his son Max and that he and Nikita were finished with the adoption process.

Michael nodded curtly while Nikita smiled warmly at them, content for once in her own little world.

Alex eyed him, lifting her hand to his cheek as he bent his head to gently kiss her lips. "That's right," she breathed, looking back at Nikita and Michael. "Don't ever let anything else come before that."

Nikita nodded. "I can see you've made it work, both of you."

"You guys belong together," Birkhoff agreed, nodding with conviction. "Anybody can see that."

"I agree," Alex sighed, scrunching up her nose. "But the real adventure starts when you have a kid."

"Oh yeah," he snorted at the stern look crossing Michael's face. "I can see it now, Michael—you and Nikita with four kids, one hanging off each limb—priceless."

Nikita threw him an insulted look while Michael sobered even more. Alex looked at him, then back at Nikita and Michael. Suddenly they all laughed.

_**I hope you've enjoyed this story – please review this final section— I do look forward to your comments so much! Let's hope that "Nikita "will continue to enrich our lives as its characters live on  
>in our memories.<strong>_

_c. 2012 by Christine Levitt _

9


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